Head over heels

The greatest compliment a stuffed animal can receive is its gradual deterioration – so says Katja Kemnitz, the photographer behind a project that shows us the value of old stuffed animals in a whole new light. After all, we often think that the newer and more pristine a toy is, the more important it is. But that's not true at all. The truth is, if a stuffed animal is worn, dirty, and almost unrecognizable, it was truly loved. What matters is not the condition of the toy when it was purchased, but the traces left by life and love. Katja Kemnitz came up with the idea for this long-term project when she wanted to replace an old stuffed dog for her daughter. At a flea market, she happened to find the same model – brand-new, fluffy, without a single flaw. But her daughter just waved it off: “What am I supposed to do with that? It's not my dog!”That's when it became clear: It's not about the object itself, but about the story it shares with us – and the scars that this story leaves behind. Journalist Dorothea Wagner shares a story from her own childhood. Her cat Zora was actually her great love, but because Zora was always out and about, hissing and scratching, she switched to a plush Bernese Mountain Dog. She petted it, tossed it around, carried it everywhere—until its soft fur became matted and its nose split open. This wear and tear was a visible record of affection and time spent together. Kemnitz’s photo series also repeatedly addresses this theme: The flattened, discolored, and sometimes partially damaged stuffed animals are not a sign of neglect, but of loyalty. Many parents from all over Germany wanted to submit their stuffed animals for the photos – but because there was great fear that they might get lost in the mail, the photos were often taken only locally in Bonn. This concern shows how deep this bond runs: for many, the thought of losing their stuffed animal is a minor catastrophe. And then comes the moment that almost everyone knows but few are willing to admit: You get older, and the stuffed animal first lingers on your bed, accompanied by a guilty conscience, then it ends up in the closet, and eventually in your parents' basement. What was once a token of love becomes a storage problem – but you still can't bring yourself to throw it in the trash. Dorothea Wagner describes how she ultimately abandoned her dog – and only later found out that her mother had allegedly given the animal to two children as a Halloween present. Whether that is really true or whether it was a white lie out of concern remains unclear. And then there is the most beautiful insight from the interview with Katja Kemnitz: Cuddly toys are among the few toys that we give names to. They stand in for memories, for security, for childhood, and, in the end, even for letting go. What can we learn from these stuffed animals? The goal is not perfection, but what we go through together. A toy that looks like new may not have truly been a companion to anyone. A well-loved stuffed animal, on the other hand, bears the evidence of a genuine connection on its surface. So, the next time you see a shabby stuffed animal, don't think, “Time to throw it away,” but rather, “That was love.” Love is visible – sometimes in the form of a worn-out stuffed animal. If you're listening to this right now and realize that the topic resonates with you, you can mark it on Lara Notes with “I'm In” – that's not just a like, but a way of saying: This perspective is now part of me. And if you tell someone tonight why a worn-out stuffed animal is the greatest compliment, you can use the Shared Offline feature on Lara Notes to note who you shared the story with—because conversations like these enrich our lives. The photo series is by Katja Kemnitz; the article is from the Süddeutsche Zeitung. You've saved yourself almost an hour of thinking and scrolling.