“So”, I said to my flatmate one November evening, “What will you give me for this paperclip?”
She was nonplussed. “…what?”
For those who don’t know, who are reading this with probably the same level of understanding as my poor flatmate, I am taking part in the Green Paperclip Challenge at Lancaster University. This involves me approaching various people – be they family, friends, or complete strangers – and asking them to exchange something of theirs for something of mine, starting with a green paperclip. The idea is that eventually, using only items that have been given to me as part of the challenge, the items I exchange will gradually increase in value. At the start of 2017, the last item I received will be sold, and proceeds will be donated to Barnardo’s.
This is how I explained it to my flatmate, secretly hoping that the mention of charity would vindicate me for coming off as just a little bit weird.
“Oh,” she said. “I see.”
Mercifully, she was very obliging. I gave her the paperclip, and in return she gave me a small set of fairy lights.
I hadn’t really expected her to give me anything, let alone a set of fairy lights, and it certainly saved me the embarrassment of failing at my first attempt at an exchange. It gave me a bit of a buzz, knowing I’d been successful. And yet I felt somewhat guilty. No matter how invaluable the item, asking someone to give up one of their possessions still feels somehow socially unacceptable, even if you are giving them something in return.
My next swap took place once again in our kitchen, with another of my flatmates. He seemed pretty excited to get some fairy lights, and as far as I know they are now up in his room (I haven’t seen them, but I’m told they really add that special something to his room).
In return, he gave me a flask. A flask he got for free during Welcome Week. Make of that what you will.
So far, it’s proving to be a little more difficult to swap than the fairy lights, which I hadn’t anticipated. Still, I’ve been holding out hope. Someone, somewhere, perhaps with a nine o’clock lecture every Monday, must be in need of a flask. And with any luck, they’ll have something suitable to give me in return.
If not, we’ll get to see just how much a Lancaster University flask is worth these days.