In addition to buying clothes on Friday, I also got a new wallet. My old one was falling to pieces. Things were constantly falling out of it. I’ve lost four keycards in the last eight months or so because of this.
As the picture above illustrates, the new wallet is substantially smaller than the old one.
In many respects this is a good thing. However I had not entirely anticipated the extent to which the new one offers severely limited scope for one of my favourite passtimes, the obsessive collection and hoarding of random stupid crap.
My old wallet used give house room to all manner of daft accumulata. Unfortunately for the shiny novelty value of this post, I actually already partially cleaned it out when I moved. It was becoming unweildy.
Effecting the transfer nevertheless necessitated further wallet-crap cullage, and was a welcome excuse to indulge in a spot of the old ultra short term nostalgia.
From top down: plastic bag no doubt used for illicit purposes, business cards, handy Polyester Books “Get Out of Hell Free” card, old Canberran ID & membership cards, including ANU Health Club card, expiration date August 2002
Inscribed scraps of sentimental value
Tickets for things, mostly movies. I decided to retain the ones from Melbourne and archive the ones from Canberra, which comprised the bulk of the collection (note yellowing ticket to Kill Bill Vol 1, dated 27th October 2003, in foreground)
I was unsure what to do with this particular ticket, for a 10:10pm session of Van Helsing on Monday the 30th of May 2004, at the Jam Factory Village (see previous post), which I foolishly went to see entirely on the basis that Kate Beckinsale was in it.
It is an unhappy ticket; I associate it with sitting sadly on the floor of T’s flat in Toorak, realising that my first attempt to move to Melbourne was doomed. And despite the movie was absolutely dire.
But in the end I decided to retain it.
248 pages of The Magus left.
At first glance, the picture of your two wallets looked like one super swiss-army wallet!
But that’s quite a collection of memories printed on card and paper. Why one and a half playing cards?
3 Years later, do you have hair now? =oP
>Why one and a half playing cards?
The three of hearts was given to me as a present by a friend on some anniversary of his own. And the half six of hearts, I stole from the man who looked after the owls at the Amsterdam Zoo. His name was “Van Hoyten”.
Actually, I’ve no idea where the half card came from.
>3 Years later, do you have hair now? =oP
I would direct you to this.
I can see 4 out of the six hearts on that playing card, so I’d say you have 1 and 2/3rds playing cards.
My wallet is old and beaten-up too; It was black suede when I bought it, the nap of which has been worn down over the years to shiny smooth leather. I stick by the fucker, though, mostly because it has a change pouch, and I can’t abide the idea of loose change jangling in my pockets.