Alexa’s mother bought this ring in Cleveland, Ohio in the mid 60s. As a child Alexa would listen to her mother telling her about how it came to be. It was made from the tooth of a Sperm whale, found by a fisherman, he crafted it into a ring for his daughter. It was especially precious, she told Alexa, because Sperm whales very rarely lose their teeth. She promised Alexa that one day the ring would be hers. In 2010 Alexa was given the ring. She wears it on the same finger of the same hand as her mother, it fits perfectly. As a young dyed-in-the-wool hippie Alexa’s mother had been embarrassed to be wearing ivory and had fabricated the story of the whale’s tooth, the fisherman and the ring.
05 Feb 2012
Tapes, that now appear only as a repeat pattern on teenagers’ socks and backpacks were, in the 80s, the way teens copied music. Caroline’s collection began when she was eleven. The care that she’d taken drawing band logos on her jeans was extended to cassette sleeves. There was only ever one blank sleeve included for each tape so she was meticulous. She sites one of the few times in her life when she’s really lost her temper as the time a friend accidentally jogged her green biro as she was finishing a sleeve. She kept the tapes in order in shoe boxes. They’re still there, carefully stacked but she no longer has a deck to play them on.
29 Jan 2012
Nico moved to London from a small town outside of Toulouse. He immediately fell in love with cycling around the city, for the last three years he’s ridden the short route into work. He regularly jumped the lights but this particular morning he wasn’t so lucky. He hit a van, his head smashing through the driver’s window. The assault was as mental as it was physical, it was disorientating and unsettling to suddenly be thrust into a stranger’s space. The driver had his foot down and Nico thought he was making a run for it so threw his bike against the van in an attempt to stop him. It turned out he was pulling over to make sure Nico was okay. Nico had a half day at work, then had himself checked out at hospital, he was fine, just badly shaken. Finally at home that evening, he took his backpack off, this shard of glass fell to the floor. He’s kept it in a jewellery box since the accident. Nico says he’s more careful now, but he still runs the lights.
22 Jan 2012
Tracey had arranged her dad’s move, he wasn’t well and the move would take him closer to the support of his mum, Tracey’s grandmother. Tracey had planned to meet him at the coach station for lunch before he left. She’d given him directions over the phone about how to get to the station from Victoria tube – but Tracey cancelled the meeting. Her father didn’t recover and his death came as no surprise. Tracey hadn’t wanted to say what she knew, in all likelihood, would be a final goodbye. After his funeral she was given his old suits, the trousers of which, she and her sister took to wearing. In a pocket she found a note, in her dad’s script were the directions that she’d given him. She’s had it for 14 years, what it represents has changed from grief and sadness to an acceptance and now, looking at his handwriting, she remembers him as he was in happier times.
15 Jan 2012
The chair was bought in a carboot sale for £5. Kerrie knew what she was getting – a Bertoia chair from the 50s, worth quite a bit more than a fiver.
08 Jan 2012
Marina was born in Curitiba, 250 miles south of Rio. She was born wearing Havaianas. Everyone wore Havaianas, from construction workers (Marina’s smile says Brazilian health and safety is an oxymoron) to people who dress for the beach in a Missoni bikini and Missoni Havaianas. For Marina, who left Brazil at aged 28, they have always been a symbol of home, of the best of Brazil, of egalitarianism and of sun, a reminder of warmth through a long wet London winter.
01 Jan 2012
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