Sometimes, a moment turns into a memory that lingers, no matter how seemingly insignificant that moment may seem on the surface. Oddly enough, the moment I discovered Redbubble lingers in this way with me. I was with my old best friend at Crenshaw Lanes, the bowling alley on FSU’s campus (R.I.P) my freshman year. One of the girls working there was on her laptop. I pointed out a Scooby-Doo sticker I liked, she smiled and told me, “Thanks, I got it from Redbubble.” Unknowingly, this innocent girl struck up a childhood love and accidentally began my spiral down into sticker obsession.
After that night, it was my old best friend that made the first purchase. She ordered us both a handful of stickers, one of which was that same Scooby-Doo sticker of the whole gang looking terrified in the infamous Mystery Van. We both decorated our laptops in glee, and already I began to imagine what other stickers I should purchase to finish filling up the space on my old laptop.
Since this gateway opened over three years ago now, I have spent $105 on a total of 59 stickers from Redbubble. This, of course, does not include the stickers I have found and purchased from various stores in-person. My addiction is so strong that I don’t even buy all of them for myself – I have turned my girlfriend into an avid Redbubble fan as well, and I buy them for friends and family. I have stickers on my laptop, my car and some of my school supplies. Some stickers were moved around so many times that they lost their stick and had to be tossed (though Redbubble’s stickers are very durable, I must admit.) Some stickers have yet to find even their first use and are just sitting on my desk, waiting for a purpose. I even have begun purchasing items to start a scrapbook, partially to maintain a memory book full of my concert experiences and partly as an excuse to buy and use more stickers.
Of course, since I’ve purchased so many stickers, the ones on my laptop have rotated out quite a bit. They vary from different artists to YouTubers, to movies and shows, and to just the most random things I like or enjoy. No matter the case, they represent me. My interests and hobbies, my humor and music taste are all summed up by the stickers I keep. The only sticker still standing from that very first purchase is that Scooby-Doo sticker, though. It has made it through countless re-organizations of sticker layouts on two different laptops.
Now, I know stickers have gained in popularity within recent years, partially due to the growing popularity of Redbubble. This is more than just a trend for me, though. As a child, I was the same way with stickers. I had countless sticker albums filled to the brim with the most random things. When that was no longer enough, I turned to filling up the back wall of my closet with stickers. I decorated my desk with them. I wore those cute sticker earrings frequently. I spent so many quarters paying 50 cents each for those stickers in the vending machines.
I don’t think there’s any logic behind it, any rhyme or reason to my obsession. I think, as a child, I was simply fascinated by stickers. They were clean and typically easy to remove so I couldn’t get into trouble for placing them everywhere. And I think now, my obsession is due in large part to nostalgia, that memory of how excited I would get over a new sticker or sticker book. Whatever the case, it brings me a unique kind of joy, one that’s specific and special to me. I wish I could find that old Crenshaw Lanes employee and thank her.
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