Selling Your House, Unclaimed Luggage, and Voyeurism
It is more than a little weird to sort through the belongings of travelers, who for reasons unknown, left behind their luggage full of the stuff we all pack for a trip, socks, wallets, jewelry, and sweaters. . . But this is exactly what we do in Scottsboro, Alabama (population 14,484 as of 2017), home of Unclaimed Baggage. Established in 1970, Unclaimed Baggage offers a unique sort of shopping with a voyeuristic tinge.
Everything has been meticulously laundered, to the point that sometimes you can't be sure the items are used at all. And in fact, many of the clothes on the racks are overstocked products, often names like Michael Kors, Helly Hanson, or Prada, so the experience ends up feeling more like a visit to the original Filene's Basement in Boston. Definitely worth the drive, though. There is even a restored life-sized puppet of Hoggle (talk about uncanny!) from the movie Labyrinth with David Bowie, which made its way to Unclaimed Baggage years ago, no different than a discarded pair of shoes.
So we spent a few hours looking through items people were either too rushed or too confused to claim, while potential buyers stepped into our home to judge its worth in general and to them in particular. Moving for the second time in five months is not as much uncanny as it is disorienting, but it's happening nonetheless. The annoying part is the feedback people give--the house doesn't have a garage (obvious at a glance), or the bedrooms aren't big enough (yeah, in 1965 teenagers must have come out of their rooms and didn't have ensuite bathrooms) . The compliments when they come are nice to hear, but they can't be a complete anecdote to opening your home to strangers whose good opinion you want of a house you want them to take off your hands, even as you feel a sense of protective ownership.
We are about to go look at other people's homes in the city to which we are moving. I think I will simply say, "This is a lovely home, but not quite right for us,"so the realtor can tell the other realtor something. Unless you are going to buy it, does your critical opinion as a potential buyer really matter? It's why no one I know really likes selling or even buying a house. It's all so personal and uncomfortable and fraught with obstacles. It's particularly hard to leave a home you like; right now I'm watching a squirrel eat a nut in that frantic Ice-Age kind of way. The spastic chipmunks are underground for the day. Can't say I blame them. It's one of those days; change is hard. Hopefully when we move, we leave behind the surplus belongings we really don't need and keep the emotional baggage (claimed or unclaimed) to a minimum.
Everything has been meticulously laundered, to the point that sometimes you can't be sure the items are used at all. And in fact, many of the clothes on the racks are overstocked products, often names like Michael Kors, Helly Hanson, or Prada, so the experience ends up feeling more like a visit to the original Filene's Basement in Boston. Definitely worth the drive, though. There is even a restored life-sized puppet of Hoggle (talk about uncanny!) from the movie Labyrinth with David Bowie, which made its way to Unclaimed Baggage years ago, no different than a discarded pair of shoes.
So we spent a few hours looking through items people were either too rushed or too confused to claim, while potential buyers stepped into our home to judge its worth in general and to them in particular. Moving for the second time in five months is not as much uncanny as it is disorienting, but it's happening nonetheless. The annoying part is the feedback people give--the house doesn't have a garage (obvious at a glance), or the bedrooms aren't big enough (yeah, in 1965 teenagers must have come out of their rooms and didn't have ensuite bathrooms) . The compliments when they come are nice to hear, but they can't be a complete anecdote to opening your home to strangers whose good opinion you want of a house you want them to take off your hands, even as you feel a sense of protective ownership.
We are about to go look at other people's homes in the city to which we are moving. I think I will simply say, "This is a lovely home, but not quite right for us,"so the realtor can tell the other realtor something. Unless you are going to buy it, does your critical opinion as a potential buyer really matter? It's why no one I know really likes selling or even buying a house. It's all so personal and uncomfortable and fraught with obstacles. It's particularly hard to leave a home you like; right now I'm watching a squirrel eat a nut in that frantic Ice-Age kind of way. The spastic chipmunks are underground for the day. Can't say I blame them. It's one of those days; change is hard. Hopefully when we move, we leave behind the surplus belongings we really don't need and keep the emotional baggage (claimed or unclaimed) to a minimum.
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