The friendship of objects

An old purse conjures up memories of other objects that came to occupy a sentimental place in the heart.

My purse is on its last legs. Or, should I say, last threads. Either way, you get the picture. The once sheer and camel-coloured wallet has been sewn back together so many times, using so many different kinds of thread, that you could be forgiven for thinking a rainbow had thrown up all over it. But still, I remain unable - and unwilling - to part with it. Sure, it's pretty annoying that everything falls out of the coin section, and yes, the cover of it has slowly but surely started to come apart. But to the extent that it is possible for an inanimate object, this one has become a dear friend to me.

We've been through a lot, my purse and I. From the death-defying (while still at school I very stupidly scrambled on to a railway line to find it after accidentally dropping it over the side of the platform) all the way to the humorous, which involved a street altercation with an over-eager charity worker. Call me a sentimental old fool (or a cheapskate - I am Scottish, after all) but every time I open up that tattered thing, I am pleasantly reminded of something from my past. As I sit here, looking with an equal mixture of disdain and love at its shabby physique, I am reminded of other objects that have found a place in my heart.

Take my first television, for instance. Gargantuan by today's proportions, that still-functioning TV was the first thing I bought with my first-ever pay cheque… at the grand old age of 16. Well aware of how eccentric I sound ("Look! The colour's still perfect!! Did I tell you I bought this when I was 16?") when waxing lyrical to my younger sister about its charms, I am immensely proud of the contraption for having survived as long as it has. I shall never forget it, no matter how far technology advances.

And I already know the latest object that will instill itself warmly in my heart, despite my having only ever seen it in a small photograph: a vintage 1920s leather suitcase, complete with worn aviation stickers. Having fallen in love with it the minute I came across it on eBay, I have already created wild visions of my suitcase and me on wonderful trips to Paris, Berlin and Rome, deliriously happy at having found each other at last.

On second thoughts, maybe it's time I started socialising more.