On a regular basis I take a load of junk to the thrift store. I love shopping thrift, I love donating thrift. My husband and kids and I live in a tiny home in Minneapolis, and the key to it's success (and subsequently our enjoyably low cost of living!) is ensuring we don't overcrowd the space. When we've used something, enjoyed it, given it our all for the time it was ours, and realize its served it's purpose, we let it go. Not everything is forever.
My siblings and parents give me a hard time about this habit, this custom, this behavior, telling me I'm not allowed to have the family piano or other special items because they don't trust I wouldn't give it away the moment it felt like a creep on my small space. After all, I don't mind letting go of things. I'm even good at it.
But there's something different about the things that hold a story, the things we connect an experience or feeling or emotions within ourselves. I have many of these things. In fact, my Mom has a trinkety little three-inch sign that's been in her bathroom for decades that says "We don't skinny dip, we chunky dunk" and I want it. It's probably worth...nothing actually. It'd go for 25 cents at a garage sale, but I love it, and I think it's funny, and it is so my Mom that I want to keep it long after I'm able to head to her cabin for her omelettes and coffee, long after she's able to drop off canned dilly beans and tomatoes at my house. It's her, so I love it.
A few weeks ago we got word that The Hope Locket was in a gift guide at Women's Day Magazine for sentimental gifts for loved ones. Hand on my heart, I thought, of course it is. The Hope Locket was launched in April 2020, and I remember crowd-sourcing the name on Instagram -- do you remember how upside down the world felt in April of 2020? The pandemic had just hit, and the world was crowded with the sounds of sirens, death ticker counts on weekday morning shows, and the beginning of a division that transcended decency. Would we survive physically? Financially? Mentally?
The word hope was in mind, which is a thing more important than all things. When hope is gone, what's left? In moments of despair, is there a light at the end of the tunnel? In nights of sleeplessness, do we know that this is a moment and not a lifetime? Do we believe it'll get better?
Two and a half years ago, in April 2020, I was also adjusting to my sister leaving The Locket Sisters to pursue other parts of herself, of her career. It was a good move, yet another moment to pile into the season of upside down-ness, of what felt like darkness, and who would've known, who could ever know, what more was to come.
The Hope Locket was released, with it's beautiful chain, it's gorgeous pendant, it's petite and understated sentimentality. One customer has ordered it more than five times for friends each time a birthday rolls around. It's easy to love, it's inspiring to connect with, it's beautiful.
And we're honored that it's recognized as a sentimental gift to give to a loved one by Women's Day Magazine.