Why the souvenier-shop staple is the perfect memento for the literary traveler.
So during a recent five-week study abroad trip to London, my souvenir of choice was clear.
At first glance, keychains may seem to be a pretty general (or even generic) choice of keepsake, with the same designs replicated across numerous copy-and-paste tourist shops, but this is far from the case. Indeed, despite their universal appeal to the general public, keychain designs can be quite quirky, creative, and aimed at every niche or interest.
My own particular niche on this study abroad trip was all things literary. While taking courses, my classmates and I visited both literary and non-literary destinations alike: Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, the Tower of London, the National Poetry Library, the National Gallery, many, many bookstores, and much more. Despite the usual suspects having literary-related keychains and souvenirs (such as the Globe) I was also pleasantly surprised by the connections to literature found in many other spots around the city.
For instance, a personal trip to Westminster Abbey revealed a surprisingly large number of Shakespeare-related keychains and memorabilia in their stash. Westminster Abbey’s Poets’ Corner is most likely the reason for this, with the area of the Abbey being a celebration of many famous English literary figures and writers—with authors such as Jane Austen, the Brontë sisters, T.S. Eliot, and Charles Dickens either buried or remembered there.
The truth is, London is full of literary history—and a vibrant literary community. From deep royal blue plaques marking the presence of a literary, media, artistic, or popular culture figure who once lived or worked in that place to poetry readings in indie bookshops, literary community is visible both on the macro and micro scale, so I suppose it should come as no surprise that book lovers would be so well represented as potential keychain collectors.
Of course, anyone’s preferred form of art can be found in keychains, not just the literary arts. For example, walking around our home-base of Camden, lines of booths and vendors revealed merchandise—and keychains—for any singer/celebrity imaginable, with the usual suspects (the Beatles, Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, and Harry Styles) being especially well represented. Another benefit is that you can find keychains almost anywhere. When visiting Shakespeare’s birthplace of Stratford-Upon-Avon, I found keychains with quotes from A Midsummer Night's Dream and Romeo and Juliet; while walking a mere block in Edinburgh, Scotland, I found countless keychains hanging out at the seemingly endless number Harry Potter-themed stores.
My own tradition of collecting keychains when visiting a new place or commemorating an event is personal and got its start when, at about eleven or twelve years old, I inherited a large collection of keychains from my late uncle. Massive and held together by strings of carabiners, my uncle had an enormous selection of these handheld metal souvenirs from visits to Florida and New York City’s Statue of Liberty, but he also had keychains related to things he enjoyed, such as a random Daffy Duck keychain. His collection was the embodiment of my uncle’s individuality—as well as a physical reminder of the places he had been.
When my grandparents decided to go through his room, donating many items (but giving some to the grandchildren), they gifted me his vast assortment. Ever since, I have kept his collection going and even started my own—also held together by many carabiners—which has been graced with quite a few new additions after my trip to London and beyond, including a literary Stratford-Upon-Avon exclusive. I fully anticipate adding even more memories to the chain as I continue my literary tourism journey.
It’s maybe easy to dismiss these sometimes kitschy, relatively cheap, borderline-consumerist souvenirs, found in shops all around the world, as a completely disposable novelty, but they can and do have a deeper meaning. Keychains have personality, they hold memories, and they serve as mementos and reminders that I was here. And sometimes, as in my case, they serve as representations of the people and places that you love.
So, as you board your next flight to London (or any city, for that matter), remember to keep the keychain in mind as a stellar souvenir option. Take a gamble and walk into that touristy, loud, and cramped gift shop with your head held high—you might just end up seeing yourself, and your loved ones, reflected back to you.
