What I work with

I am really enjoying my new job. It does strike me though, how odd some of the things are that I work with. In grad school we learned about the best of the best—so one might imagine that getting a real job would mean being buried in Chanel and 16^th century embroidery. But working in a regional history museum the story is a little different. For someone who doesn’t care about the history of Seattle, a lot of the stuff we have is just weird old junk—not monetarily valuable in the way an art museum’s collection usually is. Here are some of the Seattle treasures I’ve been working with recently.

-Socks made out of burlap

-Puppets from a local children’s TV show

-Giant shoes used by someone in from the Seattle Sonics

-A 1991 CD single of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”

-The first down jacket made by Eddie Bauer

-Cardboard signs from the 1999 WTO protest

-A pair of 1890s button boots made by Nordstrom

-Hiking pants from REI

-A plaid Eddie Bauer shirt with sleeves cut off, worn by a gay activist in the 1970s

-A turquoise sequin gown (with matching sequin shoes) worn by Miss Seafair 1997

-A briefcase phone from the 1980s (which weighs about 25 pounds)

-And my favorite “only in Seattle” artifact: A toy hydroplane decorated with Mariner Ichiro Suzuki’s number and name, as well as a logo for sponsor Oh Boy! Oberto, local makers of beef jerky. Where else in this country would those things together even begin to make sense?

Oh wait, I found an ad for it:

Keep it weird Seattle. Keep it weird.

What do you know about Febreze?

My boss occasionally comments that working at MOHAI is like "stepping back in time." This is not a nasty comment about the organization being backwards or even a cheesy statement about how magical museums can be--it is about the people we deal with. Both she and I get contacted by the public with questions and donation offers. The people we talk to are usually old, and when asking them to send you relevant information you have to ask questions like, "do you have access to the internet?" and "do you know anyone who has ever used a scanner?"

The other day I received a letter that completely boggled my 27-year old brain. It was addressed to my predecessor, but it fell to me to answer it. It was from a woman who had written previously about a mold problem that had appeared on some vintage garments. While treating the dresses according to my predecessor's advice, a friend of hers had added her own twist: after treating the garments she was spraying them with Febreze. Now if you are a conservator you are recoiling in horror, but to those of you without that background, just know that generally it is never a good idea to just spray random chemicals in the direction of historic fabric. Plus, a simple read of the label proves that Febreze makes no claims about killing mold or treating mildew- all it is is a "fabric refresher."

But her unwise conservation decisions were not what surprised me. I went to grad school to learn things the average person doesn't know, so I shouldn't be shocked that the general public isn't as up on clothing care as I am. The surprise was that she had never heard of Febreze. The letter explained that her friend had discovered this fascinating product called Febreze and she was writing to ask if I had any knowledge of, or experience with this mysterious new invention.

But the even more astonishing thing was this: the communication was sent in the form of a hand written letter, and the writer enclosed a self-addressed envelope for me to send my reply. A self-addressed envelope in which to send my reply. In other words, for this woman, there was no way for her to get information about Febreze other than by picking up a pen, writing a letter to her local history museum, and waiting for her letter carrier to bring the reply several days letter.

I was so charmed that I dropped everything and responded right away (although my letter was typed and printed out). I tried to be as diplomatic, non-condescending, and helpful as I could. I feel a little bad for making fun of her on this blog, but I think this is a case where the internet is a pretty safe forum.