Your own gold hoop earrings uniquely dented from years of wear fallen on to different city streets. Bracelets and brangles that jingled so loudly warning people of your presence silently sink into pools, lakes, and oceans. Pins slipping from school bags and vintage denim jackets. You can envision the item floating off or staying still on the counter in slow motion until someone else picked it up all too still.These tiny treasures, often gifted with love or bought on a whim, hold sentimental value that grows through fate or are gone through accident.
We search like mad when they go missing. We dig through pockets, retrace steps, and sometimes buy replacements to keep the loss a secret. But deep down, we know the truth: some things, once lost, are gone forever.
Being materialistic is, more often than not, about being sentimental. While we chase trends and buy new things, the pieces that truly matter are those with a story. A ring passed down through generations, a charm found in a vintage shop. A bracelet was worn every day until, one day, it wasn’t there to be put on. These objects become woven into our identities, whether worn daily or displayed like tiny monuments to personal history.
The origin of these items is in gift giving. Gift giving small or big can often form into a practiced skill and then an art. This art is found when items can be turned from materialistic into sentimental, as the initial exchange of ownership opens a flood of events with the gift. In this collection of stories, we mourn and celebrate the little histories of loose belongings.
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Object 1: A blessed ring
Name: Nara
Instagram: @dulld011
Age: 23
Origin: Phoenix
What did you lose?
A white gold ring. It had a double-layered design, with a gold band and a white gold center.
How did you get this item?
It was a family heirloom, passed from my grandma to my aunt, then to me. It came all the way from Canada.
How did you lose it?
I honestly have no idea. I have bad sensory issues with rings—I take them off when eating, writing, or washing my hands. Maybe someone thought it was cool and took it.
Do you have anything similar?
I love gold jewelry and have always tried to find a replacement, but nothing feels quite right. Simply falling between the cracks of everyday life, this ring carried more than its weight in gold. Losing the ring was a balance of memories, identity, and the bittersweet reminder that even the most treasured things sometimes slip away.
Favorite memory with this item?
The consistency. It was my signature piece for a year and a half. It never felt heavy—just right. Now, I wear cross earrings and a matching ring that I share with my mom.
Did you tell the gifter?
No. I never told my aunt, just my mom. I was devastated. Losing things has been a constant theme in my life, and this was a wake-up call to stop wearing rings.
What’s on your wishlist?
A big, gaudy gold ring with various stones, something loud, something bold.
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Object 2: A Bear charm without its Strawberry Hat
Name: Jakobe
Instagram: @sympathywreath
Age: 22
Origin: Colorado
What did you lose?
A vintage blue bear charm and a strawberry hat pin.
How did you get them?
I found the charm on eBay while looking for Y2K vintage accessories.
Do you have anything similar?
No, and I’m starting to wonder if any charms are reliable.
Favorite memory with this item?
The first and last time I wore it—on my daily bag, at a chaotic concert. The concert had an almost fever dream energy. I also broke my Mary Jane shoes that night. It was like everything fell apart at once.
Did you try to fix it?
Yes. I tried super glue, but it didn’t work in the end. Now, I don’t wear accessories like that anymore.
What’s on your wishlist?
A well-fitted pair of wool trousers and a summer coat in French linen. Elizabeth Taylor said, “I’ve never thought of my jewelry as trophies. I’m here to take care of it and to love it, for we are only temporary custodians of beauty.” As someone who understood the power of gift giving from various suitors, personal callings, and companions she acknowledged the worthiness beyond sparkle. While not all of the pieces in this story are about jewelry, the sentiment stays the same. Taking care of a piece, loving it, presenting it to the world is part of the thrill. These pieces are physical representations of phases. The blessed ring, the promise ring, and the bear. exceeds the worthiness of the original price tag.
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Object 3: Promise Ring
Name: Ari
Instagram: @aricolosimo
Age: 22
Origin: Phoenix
What did you lose?
It is a simple ring with two embedded diamonds. It had a sister ring, slightly different, worn by her sibling.
How did you get this item?
It was initially a promise ring my dad gave my mom, though they never married. It was always on her hand and then always on my hand. Ari’s promise ring had an extended history that bonded her mothers youth, with her own.
Favorite memory with this item?
I loved the way it became part of my identity. I built my other accessories around it. It was always the ring.
How did you lose it?
I was driving back from Mexico when I suddenly realized it was no longer on my finger. I texted my mom, and she just said, “It’s not my ring anymore. I gave it to you.” Jewelry disappears. Sometimes by accident, sometimes by fate. Some pieces are replaceable, but others leave gaps that can’t be filled.
Did you try to replace it?
No amount of money could bring it back. No one would know the ring like I did. It wasn’t just an object, it was a part of me.
What’s on your wishlist?
Not a new ring, just peace in knowing that, even if it’s lost, it’s still ‘my’ ring.
The three were treated as silent companions to each outfit, and disappeared just as soundlessly. These pieces were carried on the most ordinary of days, but can easily alter those days into minutes and hours of emotional distress as you look for the missing item.
Grief, regret, and last memories of seeing or feeling the piece unearth themselves as you try to imagine where it might have gotten away from you.
Oftentimes losing something you are in a time crunch, the venue is closing, the sun is going down, someone else might pick it up for themselves. When you initially got the item you would never imagine deserting it, but heartache ensues the minute you realize you might have to.
As jewelry escapes from you during quick goodbyes, handwashing you can envision the item floating off or staying still on the counter in slow motion until someone else picks it up all too still. However there is a balance in mourning and recovery in knowing that the piece does not go on lifelessly. It may have fallen into the hand of another ‘temporary custodian’. Ready to be worn ordinarily, seen as a gift from the universe itself, or aiding someone’s phase in life.
We search like mad when they go missing. We dig through pockets, retrace steps, and sometimes buy replacements to keep the loss a secret. But deep down, we know the truth: some things, once lost, are gone forever.
Being materialistic is, more often than not, about being sentimental. While we chase trends and buy new things, the pieces that truly matter are those with a story. A ring passed down through generations, a charm found in a vintage shop. A bracelet was worn every day until, one day, it wasn’t there to be put on. These objects become woven into our identities, whether worn daily or displayed like tiny monuments to personal history.
The origin of these items is in gift giving. Gift giving small or big can often form into a practiced skill and then an art. This art is found when items can be turned from materialistic into sentimental, as the initial exchange of ownership opens a flood of events with the gift. In this collection of stories, we mourn and celebrate the little histories of loose belongings.
Object 1: A blessed ring
Name: Nara
Instagram: @dulld011
Age: 23
Origin: Phoenix
What did you lose?
A white gold ring. It had a double-layered design, with a gold band and a white gold center.
How did you get this item?
It was a family heirloom, passed from my grandma to my aunt, then to me. It came all the way from Canada.
How did you lose it?
I honestly have no idea. I have bad sensory issues with rings—I take them off when eating, writing, or washing my hands. Maybe someone thought it was cool and took it.
Do you have anything similar?
I love gold jewelry and have always tried to find a replacement, but nothing feels quite right. Simply falling between the cracks of everyday life, this ring carried more than its weight in gold. Losing the ring was a balance of memories, identity, and the bittersweet reminder that even the most treasured things sometimes slip away.
Favorite memory with this item?
The consistency. It was my signature piece for a year and a half. It never felt heavy—just right. Now, I wear cross earrings and a matching ring that I share with my mom.
Did you tell the gifter?
No. I never told my aunt, just my mom. I was devastated. Losing things has been a constant theme in my life, and this was a wake-up call to stop wearing rings.
What’s on your wishlist?
A big, gaudy gold ring with various stones, something loud, something bold.
Object 2: A Bear charm without its Strawberry Hat
Name: Jakobe
Instagram: @sympathywreath
Age: 22
Origin: Colorado
What did you lose?
A vintage blue bear charm and a strawberry hat pin.
How did you get them?
I found the charm on eBay while looking for Y2K vintage accessories.
Do you have anything similar?
No, and I’m starting to wonder if any charms are reliable.
Favorite memory with this item?
The first and last time I wore it—on my daily bag, at a chaotic concert. The concert had an almost fever dream energy. I also broke my Mary Jane shoes that night. It was like everything fell apart at once.
Did you try to fix it?
Yes. I tried super glue, but it didn’t work in the end. Now, I don’t wear accessories like that anymore.
What’s on your wishlist?
A well-fitted pair of wool trousers and a summer coat in French linen. Elizabeth Taylor said, “I’ve never thought of my jewelry as trophies. I’m here to take care of it and to love it, for we are only temporary custodians of beauty.” As someone who understood the power of gift giving from various suitors, personal callings, and companions she acknowledged the worthiness beyond sparkle. While not all of the pieces in this story are about jewelry, the sentiment stays the same. Taking care of a piece, loving it, presenting it to the world is part of the thrill. These pieces are physical representations of phases. The blessed ring, the promise ring, and the bear. exceeds the worthiness of the original price tag.
Object 3: Promise Ring
Name: Ari
Instagram: @aricolosimo
Age: 22
Origin: Phoenix
What did you lose?
It is a simple ring with two embedded diamonds. It had a sister ring, slightly different, worn by her sibling.
How did you get this item?
It was initially a promise ring my dad gave my mom, though they never married. It was always on her hand and then always on my hand. Ari’s promise ring had an extended history that bonded her mothers youth, with her own.
Favorite memory with this item?
I loved the way it became part of my identity. I built my other accessories around it. It was always the ring.
How did you lose it?
I was driving back from Mexico when I suddenly realized it was no longer on my finger. I texted my mom, and she just said, “It’s not my ring anymore. I gave it to you.” Jewelry disappears. Sometimes by accident, sometimes by fate. Some pieces are replaceable, but others leave gaps that can’t be filled.
Did you try to replace it?
No amount of money could bring it back. No one would know the ring like I did. It wasn’t just an object, it was a part of me.
What’s on your wishlist?
Not a new ring, just peace in knowing that, even if it’s lost, it’s still ‘my’ ring.
The three were treated as silent companions to each outfit, and disappeared just as soundlessly. These pieces were carried on the most ordinary of days, but can easily alter those days into minutes and hours of emotional distress as you look for the missing item.
Grief, regret, and last memories of seeing or feeling the piece unearth themselves as you try to imagine where it might have gotten away from you.
Oftentimes losing something you are in a time crunch, the venue is closing, the sun is going down, someone else might pick it up for themselves. When you initially got the item you would never imagine deserting it, but heartache ensues the minute you realize you might have to.
As jewelry escapes from you during quick goodbyes, handwashing you can envision the item floating off or staying still on the counter in slow motion until someone else picks it up all too still. However there is a balance in mourning and recovery in knowing that the piece does not go on lifelessly. It may have fallen into the hand of another ‘temporary custodian’. Ready to be worn ordinarily, seen as a gift from the universe itself, or aiding someone’s phase in life.