I am a hoarder..there I've confessed. I don't set out to collect things, it just happens. Sometimes collections are just thrust upon me.
It probably started about the age of 6 with my collection of 'foreign dolls'. My mums friends used to bring these ever so exotic tasteful objects back from their trips abroad. Spain of course was 'flamenco doll', Belguim introduced me to 'lace making doll' and my favourite from Canada was 'baby eskimo doll' snuggled in his little fur papoose. Most of these dolls looked the same but with different attire and they all had the same sinister blinking eyes (which truth be told kinda freaked me out). I'm sure nearly all began their global journey in Taiwan.
My other childhood collections included owl ornaments (why?I have no idea), badges (buttons to my U.S chums), Enid Blyton books and probably countless other things that have slipped my mind. I'm sure my mum will soon remind me because as a hoarder I not only hoard at my own house but at hers (where all the junk mentioned above still sits).
I now live in a modest sized home (with substansial cupboard and attic space..thank god!) with my minimalist favouring Fiance. He is very understanding but I know at times he despairs when I feel the need to buy 'just one more' ball of wool when there is a double wardrobe bursting full of the stuff.
Current collections include Russian nesting dolls, Cheesy celeb biographies and all things Kermit. Most of these things are presents or car boot fair buys.
Did I also mention I still have some clothes I last wore in 1992?