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In the Vancouver Sun, recently, Shelly Fralic explored the motivations a typical Canadian family might have for keeping possessions of sentimental value beyond their usefulness. Entitled “The art of hoarding, er, curating,” the account delved intimately into the collection of memoirs and keepsakes stashed away in the columnist’s basement.

Amid the clutter of Fralic’s basement were things most people would simply find mundane when taken out of context: Barbies with shaved heads, vintage snowboards, old sneakers, CDs, magazines, and various knick-knacks. However, to the family that owned that pile of what others would otherwise consider old junk, the entire collection amounted to a de facto museum of precious memories.