In 2004, my family and I went to New York. It was my brother and I’s second trip to NYC.
I was pumped. Usually family vacation meant camping, lack of electricity and activities such as clam fishing or long walks in the woods. Not my idea of fun (back then). So I told my mom that if I was to come, I’d be the one planning the trip.
I tried to make sure that everyone would enjoy themselves, so I found things that would please boys and girls, adults and kids alike. Sony wonder technology lab for the guys, Screaming Mimi’s vintage shop for the gals.
I had one thing planned specifically for myself: the MOMA store. Sounds kind of lame? Well, I was a young small town girl, thirsty for some big city design and fancy objects.
We didn’t even go into the Museum of Modern Art itself (it was closed for renovation back then). We just ended up spending over one hour perusing through the impeccably curated collection of objects.
I had a shopping budget planned out. I’d worked all summer as a street rep for my city, and I wanted to buy myself some treats. Whilst organizing the 4 day venture, I had already mapped out a few things that I wanted to purchase at this store. One of those things was the Tykho radio.

This particular item struck me because of its bright blue shade and clean, cool design. Plus, it was waterproof, which meant that bathing would never be boring again (that was an issue for me back then). At 55$ US, it wasn’t a cheap treat but I really wanted it so I didn’t mind.
When we came home from our fun trip, I proudly set it up on my bedroom shelf, glad that I finally owned such a beautiful thing. It felt like by buying it I’d accomplished something.
For many years, one of my hobbies was to spend hours reading magazines, listing the things that I wanted. Now, for the first time, I could finally own one of those objects for real. Seems kind of superficial and materialistic but for me it felt like I was growing up. I was able to make my own dumb decisions about buying useless objects. 😉
The radio itself worked for a good two weeks. If my stepbrother hadn’t submerged it, it would probably still be playing music but we sort of misunderstood how waterproof it actually was. I wasn’t upset. The music was just a bonus. I was more excited about how pretty and cool it was, so I’ve kept it ever since.
It’s really good at gathering dust, but I still love it.
Does anyone else own an object that they just can’t get rid of because it holds special meaning to them?