This is likely my least manly possession:
...but I couldn't help myself. At first, laying on a dingy jumble at an even dingier flea market, I thought this fan was covered in cigar labels or something equally silly. But then I realized they were letterheads, or monograms from endlessly elegant stationary ...
So many letterheads, so many correspondents! Each monogram carefully snipped from her letters and glued to this odd fan. This young lady (I assume she was young, as so many of the crests are from Eastern colleges) really got around, shall we say. All of these are embossed, and in the most sublime colors. And even better, they're mounted to melting silk.
Who was she, and who were these cosmopolitan correspondents, who wrote her from colleges, foreign hotels, aboard ships (including one battleship), from social clubs and sanitariums? What did they write to each other about? What intrigue? It kills me imagining their penmanship.
Think, a whole social set spread across a fan. Perhaps it was a garish form of name-dropping, to fan oneself with a pictorial diagram of your closest 150 friends (or beaus?), but certainly more appealing than a friend-count on facebook.
I applaud you, mysterious popular girl. Would we have been friends? If I knew where it was, I would lay flowers on your grave, with a heartfelt monogrammed note.