I grew up with a respect for objects that it is long lost now. Objects that were made to resist, that people would buy once to last a lifetime, that were cared for and appreciated for the material costs but also for the work that went into them. Coats that were carefully stored in order to be worn winter after winter after winter. Photo cameras that had lifetime guaranties. Stoves from the seventies that still work today. My grandmother would keep also objects that were slightly broken, without being a hoarder and without our house getting flooded by objects. There were just a few things that people were owing, things that were useful or pretty but not in excess and even when some of them had to be replaced by new things the old ones were still cherished and kept.
I remember playing with these sunglasses that belonged to my mother in the early seventies. I was fascinated by the pink case and all the colors of the lenses. Only the blue ones, that are mounted in the frames are still intact, the other colors were slightly broken already when I was playing with them. They are just some cheap plastic sunglasses with a silly shape, but I take them out sometimes from a drawer and look at them, at the yellowed case, at the broken lenses… 
Linking up with Vintage Bliss Tuesdays.
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stories of objects 