Formerly silver strappy sandals

Formerly silver, these strappy sandals were dyed black for some now-forgotten reason by our mother. Purchased in their original silver state for our American cousin’s wedding eight years ago in which we were a bridesmaid and thus forced into a shiny pink dress with our hair constructed into an immovable up do. We were thrilled, therefore, to have free reign in our choice of footwear, so long as it was silver, and we found these perfectly lovely shoes at Pay Less of all places, which came as a great relief, as our bridesmaid dress cost what one would expect for a wedding that featured custom designed ice sculptures.

We were one of six bridesmaids, the token cousin representing. It was a wedding of characteristic Floridian excess, a full weekend of events including a 100+ person rehearsal dinner, a pre-wedding bridesmaids’ tea at an odd teahouse/gift store that stocked spiritual stocking stuffer-type books with titles like “In the Kitchen With God”, the wedding itself, the pre-dinner reception, the dinner, the dancing, the sweet table, brunch the next morning, and an Oscar party (the wedding was in March, back when the Oscars were still in March).

These shoes got plenty of post-wedding wear, however, both at other weddings, and just on regular days when we felt like wearing silver shoes. We can’t remember why they were dyed black, but we think they are still pretty cute and perfectly serviceable and aren’t quite sure why they were relegated to the basement.

Monetary value: how much would you pay for someone’s old shoes?

Nostalgic value: Meh.

Disposal status: reclaimed from basement until better black strappy sandals can be procured

Cherry Merry Muffin and her companion Chocolottie

In theory, it’s so charming. A baking-themed doll collection, in which each doll (named after a different flavour) comes with a little sidekick who is also a usable kid-sized kitchen accessory like a cookie cutter or a sugar bowl. Unfortunately, these dolls stink. Literally. If you’re of a certain age, you might remember the cloying commercial jingle: “She looks sweet/she acts sweet/she smells sweet too!” The dolls are scented, in that vaguely sickening manufactured “sweet” scent. Ostensibly, Cherry Merry Muffin smells like cherries and Chocolottie smells like chocolate, but after 20 years, it’s all blended into a chemical-tinged mess of a bouquet. In any case, these belonged to our youngest sister, and we dimly remember thinking that “Cherry Merry Muffin” was an awfully suggestive name for a children’s toy even back then. Now, we are regretting this entry because that damn song from the commercial is stuck in our head.

Well, clearly someone is more taken with these dolls than we were.

Monetary value: Given the state of their hair and that fermenting sweet chemical plastic odor, -$10.00

Nostalgia value: Well, that song pops into our head with surprising frequency. Still, we mentioned the stench.

Disposal status: GAR-BAGE.

Yellow writing folder

A yellow writing folder containing our incomplete grade seven English class writing portfolio and covered in the remnants of a collage that demonstrates our one-time devotion to saving the whales [SEE ALSO (maybe): Le Kit; award-worthy sticker album]. The contents are mildly embarrassing but mostly dull, and this folder is notable primarily for our teacher’s prescient comment about our “promise as a writer” and “lack of sustained effort.”

Dollar value: $0.00, unless we become a famous novelist

Nostalgia value: Less nostalgic and more embarrassing

Disposal status: removed from basement, rammed into our “old work” file, waiting to be recycled in a fit of irritation

The Maroon Phone

This phone does not count as crap. We will put up a fight for this phone if we ever have a land line again. This phone is one of the, if not THE greatest piece from the Basement Collection.

In the old house (that is, the house we moved out of in 1992), the maroon phone’s aesthetic wonder went overlooked in our father’s basement office, where the grubby hands of three daughters under ten could do minimal damage. Over the years, it was claimed by various family members who, for whatever reasons, valued aesthetics over being able to check phone messages. The maroon phone has a satisfying ring, a proper ring, not the robotic beeping of a modern phone. Dialing the maroon phone is an appealing audio sensory experience, with the comforting whirr of the rotary dial and the muted ding in between each number.

We blame the possession of this phone for the fact that our youngest sister picks things like old-timey meat grinders up from the sidewalk and brings them home.

Dollar value: $100,000,000.00

Nostaligia value: Come on.

Disposal status: Never.

The Mexican Doll

One of three dolls in traditional Mexican dress, or what one assumes is traditional Mexican garb. A souvenir from our family vacation/father’s business trip to Mexico City, a trip that gave us a decidedly skewed vision of the country, as we stayed in a high-end Japanese hotel and spent most of our time eating Teppanyaki and swimming, although one day we did venture out to climb some pyramids [SEE ALSO: Condescending Travel Journal]. This doll (and its yet-to-be unearthed counterparts), which we all find quite creepy, was a gift from the family of our father’s business colleagues, who had us over one evening for tortillas and and Spanish lessons (the latter did not stick).

Dollar value: A couple hundred pesos, maybe?

Nostalgic value: Limited. We’ve always found such dolls creepy and we have better souvenirs from Mexico.

Disposal status: Giveaway box.

Sylvanian Families

Sylvanian Families rabbit figurines and birthday card. The primary foundation of our friendship with Sarah Jane, who we haven’t seen in 15 years. Sarah Jane had a magnificent dollhouse populated with as many Sylvanian Family members than we could incorporate into our elaborate storylines [see also: Mickey’s Birthday Notebook]. We personally only possessed two Sylvanian Families: the Babblebrook Rabbits (shown, sort of – one of the rabbits is wearing a dress torn off some poor forgotten fairy princess doll) and the Evergreen Bears (yet to be uncovered). Sarah Jane’s possession of the Slysdale Fox Family was a source of constant envy and resentment.

Though our friendship was generally one of geographic convenience and a mutual appreciation/covetousness of one another’s playthings (us of her dollhouse and fox dolls, her of our computer games), there were moments of affection and understanding, as evidenced by this birthday card from Sarah Jane, purchased with unusual foresight in the UK.

Dollar value: approx. $0.59

Nostalgia value: High enough to send us into a Google frenzy of Sylvanian Family products (mainly in an attempt to remember their names), and delighted to discover there is in fact a STORE, where we will go when we are in London in November and weep for our lost childhood enchantments.

Disposal status: giveaway box, recycling bin. We care enough to go to the Sylvanian Families store, but not enough to keep this nonsense lying around.

Pink Briefcase

Plastic briefcase, pink, circa 1989.

The last remaining of three identical pink plastic briefcases (one method of avoiding sibling rivalry), this case is a prime example of our habit of covering random items in stickers and tape [see also: Polly Pocket]. This case is capable of holding: books, Barbies, Barbie clothes Polly Pockets, pens, translucent pastel beads shaped like fruit, Playmobil, a blankie. Used on road trips to carry such essential items as Logic Problem books and musical soundtrack cassettes despite its unnecessary bulk and propensity for opening at random. Used in the home to hide the particularly valuable pieces of PlayMobil,  occasionally as Barbie’s sitting room and/or closet, and once, memorably, as her pool.

Actual dollar value: approx. $2.30

Nostalgic value: Unexpectedly high, considering what a piece of junk it is.

Disposal status: Saving for use as a prop one day.