Sometimes the smallest least expensive things are the most popular here at Joie. These little sock monkey lights are $5 and we get them in batches of 24. People love them. I was perusing the most recent issue of the New Yorker and read this poem, "The Things" by Donald Hall. It made me think of how one little thing, taken on its own, can become a cherished object. I like that some of the smallest things people buy at Joie probably wind up as one of those things the eye returns to.
When I walk in my house I see pictures,
bought long ago, framed and hanging
—de Kooning, Arp, Laurencin, Henry Moore—
that I’ve cherished and stared at for years,
yet my eyes keep returning to the masters
of the trivial: a white stone perfectly round,
tiny lead models of baseball players, a cowbell,
a broken great-grandmother’s rocker,
a dead dog’s toy—valueless, unforgettable
detritus that my children will throw away
as I did my mother’s souvenirs of trips
with my dead father, Kodaks of kittens,
and bundles of cards from her mother Kate.
lower picture credit jim siegel/ning nong