It’s funny how you can get so used to some things that you forget they’re actually pretty unusual, then when it comes up in conversation, you remember how odd they are. A good example of this is my fridge.
When I was thirteen, my parents were refitting the kitchen. Instead of getting a new fridge, my Mum had the idea to get me to paint the one we already had like a Warhol soup can. I was learning about his work at school at the time. It was a great idea – thanks Mum! – so I went for it, and the fridge became what it is. It’s consommé not because it’s anyone’s favourite, but because I liked the second line of text on the bottom half of the can.
The fridge outlasted my parents’ marriage though, and when my family home was eventually sold, I decided the fridge was too novel to get rid of. I disconnected the motor so it no longer chills, but the light still works!
For a short time in smaller dwellings, I used it as my wardrobe, but over the past few years it has been happily serving as one of my art supply stores. It is now home to everything from post-it notes to pencils, spray paints to sweet wrappers, and I wouldn’t swap it for anything else!