I never understood the concept of souvenirs.
It's gotten to the point where I refuse to buy them. The concept, the knowledge that some people back home might expect a magnet or a chocolate or some shit because I went someplace bugs me. I hate the entitlement of it, sure. I don't like the obligation to spend money for no reason whatsoever, and that's how most people do it. We seldom buy a souvenir to actually say "I wish you'd been to this wonderful place with me".
It's typically an obligation.
I love watching people souvenir-shopping. You see on their faces the irrelevance of the task. They know the little glass dog or the bookmark or the whatever tiny Eiffel Tower isn't going to mean anything to the person they're buying it for. There is, in fact, this wonderful sensation of distance when you go away. Of being someplace else, disconnected from the pettiness of your day-to-day and with it, a small cohort of people. So having to think whether your neighbor might appreciate a souvenir with the city name or the three most interesting tourist attractions feels, in a way, absurd.
It is.
Whenever I feel compelled to buy a souvenir, I try to get someone something unique. Either uniquely relating to them or our friendship. One of the best souvenirs I received actually came from my therapist and it was a memo pad from Prague fromt he Alfons Mucha museum, as we happened to share an interest in and love for Mucha's work. It was tailored to me 'cause I'm constantly writing things and it pertained to something I was interested in. That's what souvenirs should be, I think.
They shouldn't be magnets of the London Bridge that nobody actually cares about. Unless the receiver really loves magnets. My grandmother had a magnet collection that was largely supplied by my frequent travels. It made sense. She was an old woman who hardly got down to the corner store much in her last few years, let alone to France or Italy, so it made sense. We were also very close, so it was a way of keeping her close to me while I traveled.
But magnets, postcards, bookmarks, all these landscapey things make little sense for young people, in the age of the Internet where, let's face it, the doctored images you typically find online trump those poor postcards by ten times. Besides, you're already probably texting with your friends and family and sending them photos of everything from the Big Ben to your fish'n'chips. So it becomes a bit pointless.
But then, what can you buy?
Nothing. While souvenirs had their purpose a while ago when travel was so treacherous, expensive and difficult, now they come across as a refusal to part. It plays into the overarching mentality of the Internet that we need never really be on our own (or, you know, just us and our partner, brother, mum, friend or whoever). That we can, at all times, be together with the whole world. We need never have individual or unique experiences.
I'll bring you a box of chocolates so you feel you were there with me. Except you weren't, and I experienced this on my own or with someone else, and that was special. As it should be.
But again, the bigger driver of the souvenir industry is social obligation. I'll get you something 'cause I know you'll get me something when you next travel, and on it goes. I admit, I caved and got three tin chocolate boxes (also Mucha designs, yes, it's an obsession) from Barcelona. I liked the tins. I thought they were practical and I liked the idea of having the art to display in your home or use the boxes for storage after they're done. There's a part of me that will always adhere to these little communist instincts. I don't need a tiny tin box, neither do my friend or my mom. But they're practical.
So I occasionally cave, but I'm trying to fight this pressure to buy shit for buying's sake. Just because people will expect it or might not get me something back when they go away. I don't care (I'm just glad to get a break from 'em).
Is it insulting? I dunno. I know some people get a bit miffed if you show up from your trip with nothing, but personally, I'm at a place in my life where I'm fine with that. My not bringing you a magnet from Spain doesn't mean I love you any less. The trip itself, in fact, was not to do with you or our relationship. And if I saw nothing there to remind me of you or to make me think "oh, X would love this", then we're probably not that close anyway. So let's stop pretending, shall we?
Do you buy souvenirs? Have you found a way of escaping the magnet-keychain-postcard-chocolate conundrum?
