sure, it's just stuff.

and my sense of safety, the sanctity of my space, and....my underwear

just…. stuff

i know it’s just stuff, replaceable. And insurance will even cover it, eventually.

The expensive hairbrush, a luxury, was purchased for me when i was having long depressive episodes and acute OCD that led to matting my then long hair and chopping the matted chunks out at random. My curls could only hide so much. The boar bristles couldn’t fix my brain of course, but they did make my fine curly hair, a constant frustration, easier to manage.

Makeup is just makeup, especially when you have a lot of it, except every year since I graduated college and had an income I would buy myself a present from Sephora, a splurge to go along with the Sephora birthday gift freebie. It was sometimes an eyeshadow palette (always a millennial), a pricey lipstick, and a candle. I got all of these this year, in addition to a sephora favorites kit filled with practical additions to my makeup kit knowing that I had a wedding and a conference coming up. Now, all gone.

The day before I left, I realized both my iron and steamer were lost in my move. I finally clicked buy on the Nori Press steamer, which Caroline Moss (of Gee Thanks) has been talking about for ages now. I slipped it out of its box and into my suitcase, planning to steam my reformation dress when I got to the wedding. I got to use it once.

The reformation dress itself was the first dress I’ve ever worn to a wedding that I didn’t hate, that I felt good in, that I felt like myself in. It’s funny, because I usually go for a loud print or sequins or something, but I loved the dark green crepe dress. it’s also weird because I know Reformation, I know that the plus sizes aren’t graded properly and that they aren’t truly size inclusive and they do a lot of green washing. But they also, somehow, fit my plus size body better than most clothing and are everywhere on poshmark, allowing me to save money and buy their clothes without supporting them.

My Charlotte Stone shoes, intentionally mismatched, purchased during a sample sale, indecisive after staring at them and saving for them for months. Gone.

My favorite Samantha Pleet body suit, in dragon print, worn many times over but most memorably with an all blue outfit and matching scrunchy when my hair was bleach blonde and again with a corduroy mini skirt and top bun when I still had long hair. The print, like all of Samantha Pleet’s is limited and it’s not even abundant on resale sites, even in straight sizes. Unless she has a cache of the fabric (maybe??) this one may truly be irreplaceable.

There is also the Samantha Pleet Grape mini dress, green and printed with grapes and grape leaves, that I wore to thanksgiving two years ago with Christy Dawn boots and many times after. i bought it because I love green and also because the grape leaves always remind me of my grandmother.

The Tradlands pants, that I just bought (pre-ordered way back in September), pants that fit and I feel good in, that were way too expensive, gone. They didn’t even need to be hemmed. I knew it was too good to be true.

My Phillies hat, which is of course, not a regular Phillies hat, but a limited edition tan cap that says Phila., a Cooperstown special that I can only find on one resale site for 150 American Dollhairs. No.

My toothbrush, which is electric and pink and 4 years old (swappable heads, duh), is not the biggest of deals but still not something I can afford to replace right away and also seems the most violating, besides my undergarments of course

.

The vintage Carhart, that was my dads, only a shirt and a sweatshirt, plus a sentimental hoodie, that I dug out of storage and stayed up washing and shoved into my bag.

And of course there was my suitcase. The Away Suitcase I originally purchased 8 years ago was once replaced under their majestic lifetime warranty, but I was planning to send it in due to a broken handle and some internal rips, safe in the knowledge that i would always be able to leave, to be able to pack in the same bag, in the same way, that I have been doing for 8 years. It was a huge splurge 8 years ago, but at 350 dollars it is now out of the question entirely (though if you can afford it, you should get it, the lifetime warranty is killer and I um, really put my suitcases through it).

I left the suitcase outside my front door for only a few minutes while I dropped off my backpack and purse, pet my cat. Dumb, maybe, but I couldn’t carry it all through the door. I’d never even had a package stolen or a plant (though someone did spray paint my pumpkin, the cutest vandalism

i’ve ever seen). But it was gone. And so was my sense of security. They are only things, sure. I’ll get some money back eventually, and maybe I will be able to replace some of the less limited edition stuff, one day.

But those things don’t mean so much to whoever took my bag, who took my beloved quirky printed dresses and my dads old sweatshirts and my birthday makeup and my OCD hairbrush and the dress that reminds me of Medzma and the only dress I’ve ever liked at a wedding and shoes I saved up for over months and my suitcase. They also took the sanctity of my space and my feelings of safety and my goddamn underwear.

stuff is never really just stuff, is it. And I want that Natasha Denona palette back.