For me, a favorite stuffed animal or doll is a way to meditate on my own childhood, on my children’s childhood, someone else’s childhood in a vintage find. It is a way to revel in memories that flood the heart with sentimentality- memories of a distant past. Just touching it, dusting it, enjoying the craftsmanship is a means to grieve, to laugh. Something to nurture, to marvel at.
Yes, I am that kooky lady with a house full of stuffed animals (and more in storage). But they each mean so much to me and my kids and they would be lost in a thrift store, turned away for fear of bugs and TB. So they stay with me (and in storage).
I may start sharing my vast collection here over time. Some are new, some very old, some mine, some my kids, some from vintage finds.
On a different note (or is it?), the following is fascinating and creepy. Oh dear.
Bizarre (it’s too strange, even for me):