The other day I used the word tchotchke to describe some small figurine to my client and she was all, “tchotch-whaaa?”

It occurred to me then that perhaps a lifetime of Jews has made me take for granted the fact that not everyone is fluent in English-Yiddish-ish vernacular. And yet, this word, tchotchke, it’s pretty damn essential for us all to get on board with. And so I shall now attempt to define it, as compared to a decorative object. Educating the masses-that’s me.

A tchotchke, you see, is a small trinket. Whether antique palm-sized game or modern day plastic anime creature, the term denotes an item that’s lacking utility, that’s made cheaply, that has an appearance of being, well, tacky. Tchotchkes often fall into ones life by happenstance, as promotional items, as prizes at the bottom of cereal boxes, and other such methods of exchange.

Tchotchkes creep up into the corners of your bookshelves, collect on windowsills and countertops; indeed they find their way to various corners of your home almost without your knowledge of how it happened. As if they came to life and walked their own way into your junk drawer, a la the characters of Toy Story.

Most of the time, they’re able to get away with such behavior because one deems them “cute,” “charming,” and so on, fleeting and momentary classifications and decisions for a lifetime of chaos and clutter. Beyond that, little thought is given to tchotchkes. When asked about them, one might shrug, might demonstrate whatever actions or wind up capabilities the tchotchke possesses, hoping a valid reason for having kept it or owned it at all will magically appear. But with tchotchkes, there is rarely sound rational to be found.

It should be noted that a decorative object, similar to a tchotchke in that it serves no functional purpose other than an aesthetic one, is distinct in that a great deal of thought, emotion, and energy is regarded it. It’s an item you intentionally sought out because you believed it would help to achieve the look and feel you desire.

Tchotchkes blend into the background and create an atmosphere of clutter, while decorative objects stand out because of their obvious elegance, beauty, and style. Often, then, the way objects are displayed becomes the vehicle for classification: a few, choice items populating a set of shelves will appear as purposeful, decorative accents. An overwhelming number of small things bursting from every surface will appear as clutter, and thus, will be tchotchkes.

Tchotchkes are things you don’t really care about, and this fact is made evident by the manner in which you keep them: scattered random places, stuffed up in boxes, amid clutter and dust. Decorative objects, on the other hand (even if they are a collection of seemingly tchotchke-like things to some!) are clearly elevated in priority by the careful way you honor them in your space. If, for instance, your thing is to collect troll dolls, and you love those things like I love peanut butter, then that fact will be clear by the way you lovingly display them. The way you devote a display shelf just to them–a curated collection that you meticulously refine. If you do that, I might still call you and the troll fascination a little creepy, but I would also be without valid grounds to disapprove. At that point, it would purely be a matter of differing taste.

A decorative object is something you immediately can supply the thought behind, and it’s an answer you feel confident, not foolish or over sentimental, giving.

A decorative object is one you have chosen from many; a tchotchke is one you have thoughtlessly added to many.

Take a look through your space with an eye out for tchotchkes. Be on the look out for those small, cute things. And when you find them, ask yourself:

How did you come to acquire them? Can you recall, specifically?

What value do they have to you, really?

What value are they adding to a. your life, and b. your space?

Would you be fine without them? (this is a trick; the answer is always yes.)

P.S. My nightmare