Hanging On... and Up

 
A friend posted this on her Facebook page. It turned up in a closet of her late mother's home, long forgotten by the friend, obviously long treasured by the mother. Now it's part of her life, one of those things you just can't throw out though its original purpose is long past.

I realized I've been hanging on to a few hangers, too. This one belonged to my Aunt Sally. It's hand painted, but I don't know by whom. She gave it to me when I was about nine. It was my "favorite hanger". I hung only special clothing on it. As years went by I just displayed the hanger by itself as a piece of found art.

Another favorite is this blue hanger. Obviously old but no provenance that I can recall. "143" is scratched into the paint near the hook. Do you suppose there were 142 others like it???

Then there are the myriad hangers taken from hotels back when hangers weren't nameless and bolted to the closet rod. We didn't consider it stealing, more like taking a souvenir. I guess we assumed the hotel would appreciate the advertising. We used them for coats in the guest closet.

Besides being darn sturdy and an endangered totem, I grew to love the hangers for their graphic typography. Over time they made their way from my mother's house to mine.

Crocheted hangers were actually a thing back in the craft-crazy 1980s. Fortunately I realized that would be a lot of effort for little gain.

Athough they have a bad rap (from yours truly as well), wire hangers can become art.

 
There's not one wire hanger in my house. I drop them back off at the dry cleaner. Keep the plastic, take back the hanger!

"Leave the guns; take the cannolis"

PS A reader below wondered what to do with a collection of hangers. Why not hang them (on tiny nails) cheek-by-jowl on an empty wall? If you have one, that is.