Thursday, March 1, 2012
His name is Hobbs (he came with it) but he has been affectionately known as Bub, Bubba, or Bubbito (the last when he is in a Latin American frame of mind) for some time. He, like myself, is a vintage clothing lover. The reasons we both love it couldn't be more different though.
I love vintage for the details, craftsmanship, back story, I could keep going. He loves vintage for the feeling it makes between his claws, the sound of ripping tulle, the many and varied smells before it is cleaned, again I could keep going. He especially loves it in piles. Piles on the table, piles on the floor, piles anywhere.
I can never tell if he has systematically destroyed some pieces because he is exercising his disapproval towards the item or because he concurs with my choice and doesn't want to see it leave( I should mention that he is no longer allowed to have any contact with the stock.) Either way he has become a major catalyst causing me to be more motivated to sort and store my items correctly and in a timely manner. In this way I suppose he has become a valued business partner. I suppose.