Oh man, I miss old phones. I remember the wall phone we had growing up with the rotary dial and specifically remember that groaning noise it made when it would reset between each number.
And like the phone in the picture, I remember a beige-y pink version of it in my mom's room. That's where I'd go when real gossip or boy-talk was to be conducted. The receiver was the perfect size to stick in the crook of my neck while I lay there talking to Jessie Smith wondering if he would want to be my boyfriend.
I got so misty for an old phone recently that in a wine-induced Ebay moment, I ordered one for myself. I'll probably just put it in the bedroom, but instead of calling Jessie Smith, maybe I will just call my man's cell phone downstairs and order him up for a 7th-grade-style make-out session.
From HER Flickr set.