Item #32: Fridge magnets

Most people use the face of their fridge* as a kind of bulletin board, photo album, directory, and home for miscellanea: kids artwork, school and vacation photos, take-out menus, business cards for plumbers and electricians, bills, brochures for events, timetables, mementos, oven mitts, note pads, recipes, utensils. While most of those items are ephemeral or transient, the devices we use to keep all of those in place – the fridge magnets – are lasting, often becoming a utensil in their own right. We pack them up when we move, we seek them out when they go missing, and sometimes we even mourn a little bit when they break or wear out. Like the things they hold to the fridge, the decorative magnet (for very rarely are they unadorned) can have its own meaning, as a memento of a vacation, a gift from a friend, or even a family heirloom.

A brief hunt into the history of the fridge magnet found various bits of trivia, some obvious and some curious. The first fridge magnet was created in 1913, but they didn’t start to be used until 1923. Why? Because until then, the fridge was not a common household appliance. When the fridge became both modern and ubiquitous in the 50s, the fridge magnet emerged as the essential companion.

Like many mid-century items, the humble fridge magnet development was “space age”. Beyond the ordinary trinket-glued-to-magnet items of the pre-war era, magnets developed for the US space program included flat and flexible magnetic sheets, so the entire surface could be printed with pictures or information (it was a short leap from scientific marvel to advertising tool). Another development was the Halbach array, a method of creating a magnet strong on one side only. More recent was the emergence of rare-earth magnets, using neodymium for extra strength; these magnets are usually smooth and shiny rather than black, and are super strong, enabling larger things like flashlights to be held in place.

My fridge face is home to all manner of magnets, a few dozen in total. There are free-with-purchase bottle openers, tourist tats from places I’ve been (and a few from places I haven’t), a few with handy hooks or clips for holding non-magnetic things like potholders and papers, and some so tiny as to be ineffective at holding anything but themselves.

Most of the other magnets on my fridge are ordinary, non-memorable, utilitarian, like many other kitchen utensils, unsentimental, almost disposable. While a few have some sentimental value, there are two I would consider as special enough to be counted as objects of significance for me.

The first is one of the flat sheet type, featuring a picture of me with Martha Stewart. Not really. It’s a picture of me and my good buddy and neighbour from when I lived in Langley (appropriately, we’re standing beside her refrigerator). We often got together for tv nights (in the good-old early days of reality tv shows like Survivor, Amazing Race, and The Apprentice), holiday parties, and other neighbourhood shenanigans (including the time we helped put up Christmas lights on the one house on the street which was not already decorated). At the time, I was also a consumer of Martha Stewart’s magazine (where I learned how to fold a fitted sheet, among other essential skills). The original picture is from a Christmas party at my neighbour’s, one of the many smiles and hugs and laughs of the evening. It’s also a very early experience for me of “photo-shop“. As an avid and skilled photographer, she was adept at capturing (and adjusting) marvellous moments. Not long after that party and this gift, we each moved away from the neighbourhood, and while we’re still in touch, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a chance for a hug and a laugh like we did that night. This photo’s utility as a fridge magnet ensures it is something I see daily, bringing regular smiles and reminders of those fun times and special friendship.

From the same era come this small collection of dog-themed magnets. Life in Langley included my beloved hounds, Tyber and Sable, and so hound mementos were common for a while and continue to bring fond memories. The larger ones are painted pottery, while the smaller ones are steel cut-outs. There were originally more magnets in these sets – at least one more of the pottery ones and two others of the smaller ones. Both sets were purchased during my annual Christmas craft market shopping trip with my sister, and I would have purchased other sets as gifts, keeping a few for myself. These remaining magnets remind me often of the regal Tyber and the silly Sable, and all the joy and fun (and fur and mess) they brought to my life.

Like with other special objects, these get less regular use these days, as their preciousness take precedence over their practical applications. But they remain on the fridge so they can provide a regular flash of memory, icons of past times of joy and friendship.

* One friend’s fridge is, IMHO, a work of art. Covered from floor to top and side to side, the fridge face is a collage of her life, the magnets important more to hold up the pictures and papers, and perusing her fridge is like looking through a scrapbook of fun and family. At the other end of the spectrum is another friend who specifically chose a fridge with aluminium doors that do not hold magnets, so she can keep her fridge face tidy.