I used to collect thimbles on my travels. Yes, thimbles. As in those things that you put on your finger for protection when you’re sewing. Have I ever used them? No. Are they on display? No. Will I ever use or display them? Probably not, no.

Over the years, I’ve picked up some of the other typical paraphernalia that lines the shelves of sensory overload inducing tourist shops, such as key rings, mugs, magnets, etc. But the reality is I only have one set of keys, there’s no more room in the kitchen cupboard, and when I’m on my way to the fridge, I’m only focused on what’s inside.

“If Marie Kondo swung by my house she would still have her work cut out for her.”

I also have so many blank postcards that the pile of them is thicker than any book on my bookshelf. Totally unnecessary but they’re there.

Part of me wonders whether the whole souvenir-buying thing is really for the person buying it, or so that they can inadvertently brag about where they’ve been when they tell their guests to help themselves to anything from the fridge. Of course, I know that’s (mostly) not the case, but there are so many other ways to remember a trip these days, that I see little point in cluttering my space with over-priced bits and pieces.

Oh and a brief side note… I struggle to understand the whole ‘buying souvenirs for other people who were not on the trip’ thing. Postcards – fine. Some food – more than fine. But are you bringing me a magnet from Croatia so that my guests can ask about my trip there, only for me to admit that I haven’t actually been and therefore be forced to do extra bragging on your behalf? I just don’t get it.

Anyway, I can understand keeping tickets or even Tyvek wristbands (100 points if you already knew that’s what they’re called). Collecting things for a scrapbook is also acceptable so I’m not saying you aren’t allowed to own anything that wasn’t acquired within a 25-mile radius of your home address. I have the boarding passes from some amazing trips and the wristbands from some fun festivals; it’s nice to have a physical memento from something I experienced and it’s completely different to buying a random item I have no connection to. However, whilst these things are cute for a while, a line has to be drawn somewhere, for both the old tickets and the souvenirs, otherwise we’re bordering on hoarder territory.

“The lack of a pair of mini clogs dangling from my key chain doesn’t make it any harder to recall the canals of Amsterdam.”

“Collect moments, not things” is a quote that eloquently sums up what I’m trying to get at, but I’ll elaborate on my perspective.

Firstly a disclaimer – I’ve said before that travelling constantly reminds me of how much less stuff I need in general. However, do not be mistaken in thinking that I’m babbling on about all of this from my minimalistic high horse, because if Marie Kondo swung by my house she would still have her work cut out for her.

Photos, videos and writing are my preferred ways of memorialising unforgettable experiences and travels that I know I’ll inevitably forget parts of as time goes by. We’re only human and can’t hold everything inside our brains at once, so being able to read back some of my stories with the small but precious details is really special. Likewise, a photo or video can help me to more clearly remember a gorgeous beach I visited ten years ago.

Shameless plug here for my instagram where you can keep up to date with some of these photos and videos.

I know the quote is referring to the stuff we collect in general; clothes, magazines, padlocks without keys, old batteries, GU pots… that sort of thing, but sometimes we collect things in an effort to help us preserve memories.

So I get it – seeing a mini Eiffel Tower on the way to grabbing the milk for your morning coffee in your ‘Paris’ mug can remind you that there was a time when you were drinking it with a fresh croissant in hand and the real Tour Eiffel in sight. I’m sure it’s lovely but personally, I just end up trying to remember why on earth I bought those things in the first place and most importantly, how I’m going to fit it back into the cupboard. The lack of a pair of mini clogs dangling from my key chain doesn’t make it any harder to recall the canals of Amsterdam.

So the reason I don’t collect souvenirs anymore is that I’ve already seen how redundant they are to me. Despite this, I can’t quite bring myself to get rid of the ones I already have, so it’s better to not buy them in the first place.

As for my thimbles… well, I’ve already got them and they don’t take up that much space so they’ll stay in the box under my bed, waiting to be dusted off when I’m ‘clearing out’ every couple of years until Marie Kondo comes a-knocking.