Originally upon hearing about this project, 3 specific objects came to mind; 2 of which were immediately eliminated due to my needing to hand in the actual object, hence, my cat pin became the perfect candidate. I’ve had this pin for over a decade. I have never worn it; I’ve never displayed it to friends. It has simply remained in the many jewelry boxes I’ve had over the years. My plan was to ask my mother for the story behind how I came to own this broach, as I can only vaguely recall the experience, but when I asked her she told me that there was no significance to the piece I now posses. I tried jolting her memory; “Wasn’t it from the jewelry store at ‘The Grove’ where we used to go shopping all the time? I remember looking into a glass case and seeing it alongside other brooches atop a black velvet blanket.” My mother could not have looked more confused.
The irony is that I hate cats.
So I guess the reason I chose this cat pendant is because it’s made me realize that although I cannot place its origin, it still manages to have significance. Now whether I’ve dreamt this up on my own (as my mother assumes, seeing as how she thought she had simply given it to me from her collection), or have simply forgotten the story, something, for some reason, resonates with me.
— hand delivered in New York City
The cat pin caught my interest with its mangled eye and teapot-handle tail. It sits stoically despite the divot in its eye, a casualty from a cat fight? I also love that the pin gains significance despite, or perhaps because of, its apparent lack of significance. The confusion of memory, where is this cat from? Everything has a story, or multiple stories — coexisting, contradicting pasts. On whose clothes has it perched in the past? Who designed it? Who made it? I imagine a litter of sparkling cats being manufactured, shipped out, and set free to wander the world, slinking around on seas of black velvet. It has significance in spite of sitting dormant for the decade, unused, and unseen. That hibernation adds to the story. The pin would not be for me, but for my friend, who is a true cat lover. She would delight in the uncertain past of the cat, and continue its story.
— sent to North Stonington, CT