Simple. Silver. Subtle.
This necklace was given to me by a dear high school friend 5 years ago. A round pendant hangs from a thin, long chain. Embossed on it is a floral pattern on one side and symmetrical swirls on the other. Flipping it open, one is surprised to find a clock instead of the supposed contents of a locket. It has stopped ticking, frozen in time.
How can something so beautiful be considered distasteful? The answer lies within. Literally.
Gum. Hair. Dust. Oh wait, that’s masking tape.
Hair on tape. Dust on hair. Tape on dust. Hair-dust-tape. Stuck between two silver enclosures. How fantastically sanitary. And to think that I wear this pendant every single day of every week.
Now before you start judging my sanitation habits (or lack thereof), allow me to explain. And I’m not being defensive. Maybe.
It was only early this year when I noticed how the pendant was opening by itself. The clasp responsible for its closure had already come loose. I was disheartened. After all, it was my favorite necklace and nothing could replace it. Aside from it having sentimental value (the friend who gave it had already gone to Canada for good), it also has the ability to instantly transform any outfit from blah to bongga. I wore it so much, I could be identified with it. When meeting someone for the first time in person, I could probably use it to help him recognize me.
Not wanting to junk the necklace in the deep recesses of my untidy drawer, I immediately got my DIY on and fixed it the way I knew how: yes, tape. A simple rolled masking tape stuck to both sides of the pendant was the temporary fix. But I sure as hell was not ready to live with the consequence of doing so.
Masking tape really bulks up a pendant. It sets it ajar, if only slightly. What used to be tight is now unusually loose. Friends, acquaintances, org mates, seat mates, project mates and so on reach for the pendant from around my neck as though on reflex. For the millionth time, I had been asked whether or not it were a locket with a special note in it, a locket with a picture of my one true love.
Dearest friends, kindly stop fiddling with my pendant, thank you. It annoys me that a) 34837429928301 people ask me about it everyday, b) I have to tell them the story about it everyday, c) 34837429928301 people touch it everyday. Oh, please.
Regarding the (the lack thereof) of sanitation, you might suggest for me to change the masking tape every other day or so. But honestly, who has the time (and concern) to actually do that? The dirt may be found inside the locket, but the real dirt, the real annoyance comes from the outside.
This necklace was given to me by a dear high school friend 5 years ago. A round pendant hangs from a thin, long chain. Embossed on it is a floral pattern on one side and symmetrical swirls on the other. Flipping it open, one is surprised to find a clock instead of the supposed contents of a locket. It has stopped ticking, frozen in time.
How can something so beautiful be considered distasteful? The answer lies within. Literally.
Gum. Hair. Dust. Oh wait, that’s masking tape.
Hair on tape. Dust on hair. Tape on dust. Hair-dust-tape. Stuck between two silver enclosures. How fantastically sanitary. And to think that I wear this pendant every single day of every week.
Now before you start judging my sanitation habits (or lack thereof), allow me to explain. And I’m not being defensive. Maybe.
It was only early this year when I noticed how the pendant was opening by itself. The clasp responsible for its closure had already come loose. I was disheartened. After all, it was my favorite necklace and nothing could replace it. Aside from it having sentimental value (the friend who gave it had already gone to Canada for good), it also has the ability to instantly transform any outfit from blah to bongga. I wore it so much, I could be identified with it. When meeting someone for the first time in person, I could probably use it to help him recognize me.
Not wanting to junk the necklace in the deep recesses of my untidy drawer, I immediately got my DIY on and fixed it the way I knew how: yes, tape. A simple rolled masking tape stuck to both sides of the pendant was the temporary fix. But I sure as hell was not ready to live with the consequence of doing so.
Masking tape really bulks up a pendant. It sets it ajar, if only slightly. What used to be tight is now unusually loose. Friends, acquaintances, org mates, seat mates, project mates and so on reach for the pendant from around my neck as though on reflex. For the millionth time, I had been asked whether or not it were a locket with a special note in it, a locket with a picture of my one true love.
Dearest friends, kindly stop fiddling with my pendant, thank you. It annoys me that a) 34837429928301 people ask me about it everyday, b) I have to tell them the story about it everyday, c) 34837429928301 people touch it everyday. Oh, please.
Regarding the (the lack thereof) of sanitation, you might suggest for me to change the masking tape every other day or so. But honestly, who has the time (and concern) to actually do that? The dirt may be found inside the locket, but the real dirt, the real annoyance comes from the outside.
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