I've had it for at least 3 years. I borrowed it (read: stole) from a roommate who didn't seem to care either way. In addition to the Star Wars sheet I have several tapestries that serve the same purpose, which is to artistically and cheaply cover and decorate cheap furniture, a lesson I learned in college about interior design poetic license. Every single person who has been given the tour of my small abode has said the following line, almost verbatim:

You know, that sheet is really worth something. I've seen whole sheet sets, even used ones, on sale in collectible stores for $200.

It is the same sheet you see Jobeth Williams fluffing over her son's bed in the opening scenes of the movie Poltergeist, wherein you can see several icons of the Steven Spielberg's major success. It is likely just as old. It may indeed have been worth something when I first acquired it, but I highly doubt it has retained its former commemorative value. It is the sheet I cover the rickety kitchen table that houses my keyboard on which I am currently clattering away. And because of this, it is littered with tiny burns from airborne ash and crimson circles of wine glasses sloppily left to dry. I do everything at my desk: eat, polish my nails, write, read, talk, stare. They all leave their mark. If I actually used it as a sheet, it might make more sense to people why I hadn't thought to sell it yet, but it's for a twin bed and I sleep on a double. One day I'm sure I will frame it full size, just to make the point.

When I was a preteen, my much older sister sent me a Fendi bag for my birthday. It was not my style, having little gold F's on it and made of an almost plastic material, but I used it all the way to college. A friend of mine in college recognized the logo and told me that this bag was likely worth about $200, that it was a designer shoulder bag. I just shrugged. I just needed something to carry stuff in. How naïve I am. Ha.

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