Source: Objects of Desire Band (modified)
Objects of Desire:
Immediately, an orange-haired Barbie in a black & white striped bathing suit comes to mind. No doll had ever been more beautiful. It was love at first sight and I just had to have her.
If only I still had her today, the original doll going back to 1959. In pristine condition, which mine would be, she's valued at $27,000!
Source: Getty Images
But a doll wasn't my first lust.
It was a teapot.
Not a child's toy, but an actual ceramic piece that once poured hot tea and belonged to my Grandma Fanny, a person I absolutely adored.
And she kept it displayed, with other pieces, in what my family referred to as a curio cabinet: a rounded, free-standing piece of furniture on legs, with gilded ornate woodwork that framed each of four convex glass panels, that I imagined came from some type of palace, like Versailles.
And with wide eyes, whenever I visited my grandparents, I'd stand and stare, long and hard, at that teapot, which prompted my Grandpa Mickey, who must have been watching me, to say: "One day it will be yours."
To this day I can't explain my attraction to this object.
Grandma Fanny's Teapot
Who knows what attracts us to any one thing enough to feel the need to possess it?
For me, at five years of age and in kindergarten, it might have been the excitement of hearing my kindergarten teacher play the piano as we all sang and acted out: "I'm a Little Teapot"... with one hand on our hip and the other hand and arm pointing out as we bent at the waist, and pretended to pour tea from our imaginary spouts.
Perhaps, it was the object itself: its size, its roundness, its unusual iridescent luster and small raised flowers on its surface that lured me.
Or maybe it was my tremendous love for its owner.
Perhaps... all of the above.
It was lifetimes later, after my grandfather passed away at the age of 92, that my grandmother left New York to live with my mother in Florida. The ancient curio cabinet with the teapot and artifacts inside were the only things shipped south. This piece of furniture seemed so out of place in my mother's modern-furnished condo, but was there to give my grandmother familiarity at a time when her memory was failing.
A few years after her arrival, my grandmother passed away at the age of 94, and years after, so too my mother, unexpectedly, at the age of 86. It was then, when my grandfather's words rand true:
"One day it will be yours."
And it was.
Until it wasn't.
Years later, in the midst of a sudden stressful move from a leased house with a huge basement, both filled with way too many possessions, experts on the subject of downsizing advised: "Take photos of sentimental items rather than hold on to them. It's the memories that matter."
Sadly, I listened.
And learned.
It's the "Objects" we desire, not "images" of them.
Memories are more vivid when objects are tangible.
And...
When possible... Go With Your Heart.
Source: Banksy
Part 2
From The New York Times: Metropolitan Diary, October 17, 2021
Little Pink Teapots
Dear Diary:
In the mid-2000s, I worked for a company with offices on Park Avenue. I lived in Denver then and would fly to New York for meetings several times a year, staying at the company's suites at the Waldorf Towers.
I often had breakfast at the hotel's Coffee House, at 50th Street on the Lexington Avenue side. My usual order was tea and toast. The tea was served in a small pink teapot with a silver rim, a Waldorf signature.
Waldorf Teapot... Source: Pinterest
The little teapots became a comforting morning staple on these trips. I was served by the same waitress over a period of years, and I often mentioned to her how I loved the teapots.
In October 2014, I read that the Waldorf had been sold. Then, while on my next trip to New York, I was notified that my company would be merging my division with one in Fort Worth and that I, along with 300 others, would be laid off. The trip would be my last.
The next morning I had my usual breakfast at the Coffee House. My waitress had also been told that she would soon be laid off. I said I would miss her and, of course, my little pink teapots.
It was my last morning at the hotel and I had already checked out. My travel bag was open on the floor next to the booth where I was sitting. I stepped away for a few minutes, returned, tipped the waitress and left for the last time. It was a sad morning.
When I got home to Denver and unpacked my bag, I found a little pink teapot wrapped in a hotel napkin along with a note. It said all of the Waldorf china and silver was to be sold and that this was a souvenir from my many breakfasts there, compliments of a longtime friend.
~ Mary F. Cook
I not only found this teapot story interesting, but also some of these written comments:
Source: Pinterest
JaayEmm
Manhattan Oct 21, 2021
Pink Teapot theft? Bah humbug... the Museums are full of theft. The universe was simply putting that teapot exactly where it should be.
Deesie
NJ Oct 21, 2021
Another Waldorf teapot story....
My BFF's grandparents would take us to the Kidney Foundation Gala each year. One year the gala was held at the Waldorf. Her Mom adored not only the teapot, but the sugar & creamer as well. Her Mom called me over as if to talk to me. She told me to lean over the table and hold a certain position. I had no idea why and leaned there bewildered. The event ended, and I found it odd that her Mom was hustling us out to the street. Once we got home, her Mom pulled the tea service from her bag!
But the story doesn't end there.
A few weeks later it was her Mom's turn to host bridge club. We teenagers were hanging out in another room, but we could hear the conversations going on during the card game. Someone complimented her Mom on the tea set, and her Mom proudly declared that it was stolen from the Waldorf, and named me as her accomplice!
Isabelle
NYC Oct 21, 2021
@Deesie
I'm so glad you weren't a stewardess who took meal trays away without a disappearing little real spoon, before plastics, that someone must have put in my pocket.
Maybe that's why so many airlines like Pan Am, TWA, Eastern, People's Express, etc. are no longer flying. Too many little spoons mysteriously disappeared.
Now years later, after statutes of limitations expired for spoon misdemeanors, I'll still deny knowledge of how those three spoons got in the silverware drawer.
If interested:
Watch a short home video of children singing, "I'm a Little Teapot" here.
Happy Valentine's Day!
From
"Here and Next"
XOX... Dyan
