My life as a fisher-Price
You don't just buy an object. You buy an era, a feeling, a memory. Y2K (2000s) fashions, VHS transformed into home decor, 90s cartoon reboots, retro BN packaging... Nostalgia marketing responds to a simple logic: what reassures sells. Studies show that positive memories activate areas of the brain linked to trust and pleasure, which encourages purchase (Journal of Consumer Research, 2015). Brands get it. Disney is bringing out old movies, Coca-Cola is reactivating ads from our childhood, and entire campaigns are built around nostalgia. In fact, an Etsy study (2023) shows a 230% rise in sales of childhood-related vintage products since 2019. These objects speak to our memories. And often, they buy our affective adhesion before our reason.
I tidy therefore I am?
Open a closet. You'll probably find an old school T-shirt or a kitschy mug from a trip abroad. We keep things less for their usefulness than for their memorial value. These objects are beacons of our identity. They tell us who we've been, where we've been, who we've been with. According to INSEE (2022), 70% of conserved objects have an affective value. When we sort, we come face to face with a whole narrative about ourselves. The success of "home organizing" à la Marie Kondo shows just how much our interior is an extension of our memory. Clearly, tidying up is no trivial matter: it means sorting through memories, mourning the loss of certain versions of ourselves, and sometimes even making amends. Hence the difficulty of throwing away... even a simple piece of paper.
We consume what we haven't digested
When things go wrong, we go back to what reassures us. Consumption then becomes an emotional reflex: buying a pair of sneakers you wore as a teenager, or a packet of sweets from the playground... We seek to recreate our bearings, however briefly. This compensatory consumption is widespread, but rarely conscious. 80% of modern advertising targets an emotion before a need (Harvard Business Review, 2020). In times of societal stress (health crises, social instability, inflation), sales of emotional products explode: candy, Panini albums, figurines, pop culture objects. It's reassuring, instantaneous, almost maternal. Okay, but how do we get out of this crazy pattern, you ask? Well, by asking the question: does this object make me happier? And by going back to old photos to get those blocked emotions out. So here we go, but this time, it's for a good cause! 🥹
🔍 Zoom on: The Museum of Ordinary Objects
This participatory project based in Toulouse collects everyday objects, along with the stories of those who have kept them. A bonnet knitted by a grandmother, a crooked spoon, a postcard from a summer love... Each object becomes a collective memory. The virtual museum gives value to these "worthless" but meaningful objects, going against the grain of programmed obsolescence.
