Monday, April 4, 2011

1960's flower pins. Eye candy to the collector. At last count, I have managed to collect nearly 200 of these treasures. All different shapes, sizes and colors. Some made it out here from the east coast. Many acquired over the years during my Las Vegas thrifting adventures. Only a rare few have been gifted to me by friends who knew I would appreciate and wear them.

Yes, I wear them. They are much too pretty to keep displayed. They serve no purpose if they are in a box, put away, exposed to only darkness. Life is too short to collect treasures and not put them to good use.

In my line of work, I deal with unpleasant personalities and situations which leave much goodness to be desired. I recall a time where I held a conversation with a woman who was accompanied by her young daughter. Both she and her husband had been out of work. They were having difficulty making ends meet. As is the case, sadly, for so many Americans these days. She was telling her story of hardship with  a sadness that reduced me to watery eyes. She needed my help, and I, of course, was going to find a way to help her.

How do I turn my back on this human being, who has pushed any ounce of pride she had left aside, to beg me not to evict her? The entire time, her daughter's eyes gazing at the flower pin which adorned my outfit that day. Spinning a curl in her hair ever so quietly.

As I ended my conversation with the mother, I looked at her daughter and told her how pretty she was. She giggled and smiled. In turn, she told me how pretty my 'flower' was and that it made her happy looking at it.

When they left my office, I sat at my desk thinking how someday, that little girl would grow up and she would undoubtedly remember that moment in her life. She would have a vague recollection of her mother's pleading words. She would probably even remember all the nights she marched off to bed, wanting more than just the dinner her parents could afford. Yet, something told me she would always remember that 40 year old flower pin and would own one of her very own someday. A flower pin, such as that one, would take her back to her youth.

Moral of the story? Flower pins are adornment kitsch, yet they evoke such happiness. They are admired by the onlooker and paraded by the collector. My son's admire them. In the mornings, my youngest will choose one for me to wear, hopefully matching my outfit. It's good. It's always good. It's flower power.

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