frayed

In my office, further evidence of my love of sea-green, and further evidence, too, of the reluctance I have to get rid of things that I still love aesthetically - even when they've gone past the point of being worn, and have passed over into - well, "shabby" was the word of my childhood, but I don't feel that I've heard it so much in recent decades, except in the faux-aged sense of "shabby chic."  These cushions (why the Americans call them "pillows" I don't know, since one doesn't put one's head on them) came from Casa in Santa Fe (a sad Covid casualty as a store) around 2001. Some became office cushions; some are in the Santa Fe house; all are made of silk that has split and striated and faded in parts.  They are ... disintegrating.  I could, I suppose - I probably will, at some point - cut off all the pretty little bobbles (and use them for what??) - but I am so reluctant to wave farewell to their beautiful colors, however unrealistic  this attachment may be in the long - the medium - even the short term.