by Stephanie Williams
What do you think of when you usually hear the word “souvenir”?
A sense of place? Travel aesthetic?
Or how about the desire to bring something home after a long trip?
Maybe it’s the postcard hidden in a suitcase, the piece of pottery wrapped carefully between clothes, the photograph saved on a phone.
These objects all “save the moment” in memory long after the journey has ended. Memories that remind us we were there at one point, even if only for a small amount of time.
But do all souvenirs belong on a shelf (or in your pocket, stored away forever)?
It feels like some are meant to be worn, not tucked away. Almost like it’s destiny.
A scarf bought from a market can become associated with the streets where it was found. A handwoven textile can call upon the landscape it came from. A piece of embroidery can preserve the memory of a craft, and what it means for you personally.
Years later, putting on that same garment can bring back more than what a place looks like. It can recall its atmosphere.
This is how clothing quietly carries power (and boldness): It can trigger a sense of story even when you want to forget about it. It can overcome you even when you’d rather not think about it.
Clothing (whether we like it or not) holds power and movement. It goes with us to dinner, travels with us to another city, becomes part of photographs, and eventually develops a history of its own. A garment bought during a journey can quickly become part of a lived memory, even long after the suitcase has been unpacked.
In this way, fashion becomes part of a travel memory – a wholehearted experience, not just a simple part of a place.