You didn’t think I was normal, did you?
A collage of My Little Ponies should never be allowed to speak for itself, so allow me to explain: OH MY GOD I LOVE THEM I WANT THEM ALL THEY’RE SO AWESOME – Okay, woah. Apparently passion should also never hold the reigns. Alas, you’ve just witnessed the truth in a nutshell.
Born in the 80’s, I was fond of my pony collection, okay? I liked my stuff. One of the biggest mistakes I made growing up was thinking I’d become too cool for the things that came before – whenever I made myself over, I shit-canned anything that might get labeled as “stupid”. The one exception I made was to tuck Rainbow Brite into a drawer in my closet because NO ONE WAS GOING TO SEPARATE US. And they never did – she’s chilling on my baker’s rack, now.
As hard as I was on myself to develop and transform, my mother struggled to hold onto the treasures and was continually rifling through my garbage, picking out and saving pieces of myself. Oftentimes I was ruthless in my mission and I would discover these preservations, only to send them off to good will behind her back. That’s how much it meant to me, to move on.
Unfortunately it was short-sighted and stupid of me. I would say to everyone out there raising children to attempt to explain this to them so that they understand what happens after you’ve gotten rid of your stuff and been an adult for a little while: you want all of your toys back.
Even if you cannot possibly fathom the idea of it, consider it’s possibility and be prepared, little ones. We must take care of our toys. Put them in a big tote and seal them away if you don’t want to be associated with them but for the love of all things cute and enjoyable, do not go scrambling across the earth like some nostalgic fool who could have saved a lot of money just letting that crap sit in the basement or attic.
As I was saying, about these ponies… I’ve been recovering them from garage sales, occasionally buying one (or ten) from Ebay and really trying to understand their appeal. After all, they just sit there and don’t really do anything, but maybe it’s the power of imagination and creativity that brings out their finest features. Jeweled eyes, tramp stamps, and unruly plastic hair suggest beauty, identity and hope. Somewhat driven by ego I have been finding red-headed ponies (that I never even had) and ones with symbols that I’ve taken to heart. After being disinfected and styled, I snap a photo, put them in a shoebox and walk away feeling like I have everything, forever, and then some more.