tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146512.post9108898967061784242..comments2024-03-12T22:31:46.500-04:00Comments on What Would Phoebe Do?: The long-anticipated Defense of Stuff Phoebe Maltz Bovyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996039330841139883noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146512.post-17493591825977687572016-07-11T17:36:48.441-04:002016-07-11T17:36:48.441-04:00"No one objects to any of that (I think!) whe..."No one objects to any of that (I think!) when it comes to people of their own class, taste, and peer group, but they're very ready to see others as just willfully collecting junk and not knowing what 'really' matters."<br /><br />Yes!<br /><br />And that's - in a roundabout way - what I liked about using the "Tony" example. After hearing time and again that "stuff" equals tackiness, "experiences" tastefulness, there was something kind of too-good-to-be-true about someone going full-on "experiences"... but in the tackiest way possible. Not because (and I should have spelled this out in the piece!) "Tony" is a terrible human being, or douchiness is evil, or anything of the kind. (As in all matters of taste, it's ambiguous what's a punch up vs down - from the Twitter responses to the piece, I suspect a *lot* of people, myself included, couldn't afford the "Tony" lifestyle and also on some level think we're too good for it.) Just because it demonstrates that these are separate issues - that "good" taste is no more or less ethical than "bad," and indeed that the purported stuff-experiences divide doesn't match up neatly with tackiness-tastefulness, unethical vs ethical consumption, etc. Phoebe Maltz Bovyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17996039330841139883noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146512.post-73460559439633261732016-07-11T15:06:40.828-04:002016-07-11T15:06:40.828-04:00Yes, the central problem is the artificiality of t...Yes, the central problem is the artificiality of the divide. Sitting in my living room, with a view on several other rooms, I can state unequivocally that every single thing I see is one or more of the following: <br /><br />1) connected to an experience (if only by virtue of having been in my possession for a long time!) <br /><br />2) aesthetically pleasing to a greater or lesser degree (yes, a few antiques or whatever, but also stuff from Target that will not endure for the ages but that also wasn't chosen totally at random), <br /><br />3) useful (is this the world's greatest floorlamp? No, but I needed a floorlamp and it was $40)<br /><br />I suspect that sums up most people's stuff: what we own is stuff that we need, like to look at, or have some sentimental attachment to. No one objects to any of that (I think!) when it comes to people of their own class, taste, and peer group, but they're very ready to see others as just willfully collecting junk and not knowing what "really" matters. (E.g., I can spend--or waste!--$40 on a new floorlamp, while you thriftily take whatever hand-me-down is available; you have a sentimental attachment to a Hummel figurine; I have a vintage selzer bottle I bought on the street in SoHo for $10, that's moved with me five times over fifteen years, and remains prominently displayed. Both our peer groups are equally likely to see the other person as liking the wrong stuff, or having the wrong attitude toward it. But it's not the stuffness of the stuff that's the problem.)Flaviahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17832765671541392835noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146512.post-11151432110973237782016-07-11T13:51:42.808-04:002016-07-11T13:51:42.808-04:00Yes, that's it! Thank you! I think what frustr...Yes, that's it! Thank you! I think what frustrates me about the stuff-experiences conversation mainly is this aspect of... the entire divide being a construct. <br /><br />It still frustrates me, though, that defenses of "stuff", including my own, always end up relying on a slightly defensive insistence that stuff is OK to like *because* (or only when) it recalls or inspires meaningful experiences. I keep returning to "Women in Clothes," and Ann Friedman's <a href="http://thebaffler.com/salvos/idle-threads" rel="nofollow">review</a> of the same, where Friedman correctly points out how the clothes mentioned aren't fast fashion, but thoughtfully acquired, ideally thrifted, items. Or there's Arielle Bernstein's essay defending clutter... <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2016/03/marie-kondo-and-the-privilege-of-clutter/475266/" rel="nofollow">for refugees and their offspring</a>. These are all fair points, crucial ones! But they don't challenge the idea that "stuff" and enjoyment of it is somehow inherently disastrous. It just allows for a range of stuff-liking dispensations.Phoebe Maltz Bovyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17996039330841139883noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7146512.post-49466392998670609872016-07-11T13:09:03.124-04:002016-07-11T13:09:03.124-04:00Everything about this.
But especially this:
the...Everything about this.<br /><br />But especially this: <br /><br /><i>the anti-stuff tirades are always framed as, you only think you like stuff, but it's a mirage. What if it's just... not a mirage?</i><br /><br />I'm very good at purging clutter and getting rid of unuseful things, but I'm also deeply attached to many of the things I own. Having half my possessions in storage for nine months was annoying in all the predictable ways, but being reunited with it was more than just a matter of "oh, hey, now I have that book or saucepan I need." It felt like being reconnected to myself and my past.<br /><br />Because:<br /><br /><i>the things derided as "stuff" are [often instead] about the experiences involved in acquiring the stuff, or that the stuff reminds someone of.</i><br /><br />Absolutely. All that stuff that I'm attached to--furniture, wall art, books, dresses, handbags, whatever--are connected to experiences either past (I bought X in a shop I love, in a city I no longer live in, with a friend I don't see enough any more) or present (having a great dress to wear on a trip, or at a wedding, or to the orchestra is part of the fun of the experience). <br /><br />Does "stuff" sometimes lose that experiential aura? Sure. And when it does I can get rid of it. But the aura persists for a long time, and I take pleasure in being surrounded by a lot of things that spark varying degrees of joy or comfort (rather than paring everything down to just a few exquisite <i>objets</i> in a spare & minimalist living room, or just eight perfect dresses hanging in my closet, testifying to my restraint and good taste).Flaviahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17832765671541392835noreply@blogger.com