From Trinkets to Treasures: Rethinking Souvenirs in the Modern Age

We’ve all done it—wandered into a souvenir shop, scanning the shelves for something to take home. A little reminder of the trip, maybe a gift for someone else. But how often do those items truly capture the experience? More often than not, they end up forgotten in a drawer. Over time, I’ve come to see souvenirs differently—not as things to accumulate, but as meaningful connections to the places I’ve been.

The word “souvenir” comes from the French word for “memory” or “to remember”. An estimated two out of three travellers indulge in souvenir shopping, but the industry is not without its critics—myself included. I admit it—in my younger days, I was guilty of buying meaningless souvenirs, either out of obligation or a belief that I “needed” them. Bringing home a memento for family, or adding to my own collection—it all seemed necessary at the time.

But in reality, I never needed the physical reminder of the trip.

These days, I like to be more discerning. I look for souvenirs that are small, functional, locally made, and ethically sourced. I take photos, write notes. The truth is, much of the souvenir industry relies on mass production and cultural exploitation.

The Illusion of Authenticity

A good souvenir evokes a sense of place while being both beautiful and useful—like the puffin tea towel I received from Orkney, Scotland. Some may scoff at the idea of bringing home a tea towel, but they are practical, lightweight, and often beautifully designed. Mine, featuring artwork by a Scottish artist, is a charming piece that I love (and use!). So I was surprised when, later in Iceland, I saw the same design—this time labelled “Iceland” instead of “Orkney”. (Both countries, after all, consider the puffin a treasured part of their local birdlife.)

It made me wonder how widely the artwork had spread and whether the artist was benefiting from its reach. I still love my tea towel, but that small moment made me reflect on the unseen journey behind the souvenirs we bring home.

When I remember my trip to Iceland, it’s not because of anything I bought. It’s the crunch of snow under my boots, the sting of the freezing wind as I stood on the cliffs at Anarstapi, watching the seabirds wheel around on the thermals, the exhilaration of wet spray billowing up from the thundering Gullfoss Waterfall.

These are the souvenirs that matter—tied to moments, emotions, and sensations rather than objects.

The Psychology of Souvenirs

Humans have always collected souvenirs. Historically, travellers returned with rare artifacts, exotic goods, and objects that told a story of the places they’d seen—sometimes at the expense of local cultures. Even today, many souvenirs can carry emotional weight and take an ethical toll beyond their physical form.

Souvenirs serve multiple psychological functions. They anchor our memories, helping us recall not just where we went, but how we felt when we were there. A handwoven scarf from a Moroccan souk might transport us back to the scent of spices and the call of vendors. A ceramic plate from a Tuscan village might remind us of a wonderful afternoon strolling along ancient cobbled laneways. Souvenirs also act as social tokens, offering loved ones a tangible piece of our adventures.

But in the modern travel era, where mass-produced trinkets fill every airport and tourist shop, souvenirs often lose their meaning. Are we buying them because they hold personal significance, or simply because we feel obliged?

Shifting the Souvenir Mindset

Instead of grabbing the first snow globe or plush toy off a souvenir shop shelf, what if we changed how we think about keepsakes? What if, instead of collecting things, we focused on collecting meaning?

Rethinking souvenirs means prioritising authenticity over convenience. It means seeking out objects genuinely tied to local culture and craftsmanship. One of my most treasured mementos is a pair of tiny paintings of Balinese dancers, bought directly from the artist—Wayan—as we stood by the lake at the foot of Mount Batur—the volcano I climbed at 3:30 am to watch the sunrise.

Back home, I had them framed, and now they hang on my wall, infused with memories of that journey, and Wayan, the artist who painted them, right there on the beach, with volcanic ash and gold-coloured paint.

But the most valuable souvenirs aren’t always tangible. A beautifully captured photo, a journal entry describing an unforgettable moment, or a skill learned abroad—like making fresh pasta in Italy or weaving a basket with the Maori people in New Zealand—can be far more meaningful than a trinket destined to gather dust in a drawer.

The Impact of Souvenirs: Beyond the Tourist Gift Shop

Souvenirs do more than remind us of a trip—they shape cultural narratives, fuel local economies, and raise ethical and environmental concerns. As travellers, our choices have more impact than we realise.

Supporting Local Communities

In many destinations, selling handmade crafts, textiles, or specialty foods is a vital source of income. Purchasing directly from village co-ops or local artisans directly supports traditional skills and cultural heritage. Shopping thoughtfully ensures our purchases contribute to communities in a meaningful way.

The Problem with Mass-Produced Souvenirs

Many “local” souvenirs aren’t local at all. Tourist shops are filled with identical magnets, T-shirts and trinkets, mostly mass-produced in distant factories. These items are often designed to appear culturally authentic while being manufactured at the lowest cost—undercutting local artists and diluting a destination’s cultural identity.

For travellers, the challenge is distinguishing genuine local goods from cheap imitations. And this can sometimes be harder than you might think. Asking where an item was made, buying directly from artists, or exploring traditional markets instead of airport shops can help (but sadly, not guarantee) that your purchase directly benefits the community.

The Environmental Footprint of Souvenirs

Even natural souvenirs can have unintended consequences. Shells, coral, and certain types of wood or stone may be harvested in ways that damage local ecosystems. Some animal-based products, like ivory, exotic leathers, or ebony, are tied to illegal wildlife trade or logging.

Responsible souvenir shopping means being aware of these issues and choosing sustainable, ethically sourced items.

How to Shop Thoughtfully: Choosing Meaningful Keepsakes

Rethinking souvenirs doesn’t mean giving them up—it means choosing items that carry real significance, support local communities, and align with responsible travel.

• Buy local; support artisans and small businesses.
• Choose practical or functional items.
• Opt for sustainable materials.
• Consider “experience-based” souvenirs.
• Avoid items that harm wildlife, the environment, or cultural heritage.
• Record your memories with photos and journaling.

Rethinking Souvenirs in the 21st Century

I have a small collection of tiny treasures from my travels—just a handful of carefully chosen items that sit on a shelf in my living room. Each one is a tangible reminder of the places I’ve been and the experiences I’ve had. A delicate tea glass from China, a smooth black stone from Iceland’s Black Sands Beach (yes, we were allowed to take one small stone), a handcrafted wooden apple and pear from the Huon Valley in Tasmania—each piece instantly transports me back to a special time and place.

But I’ve always leaned toward minimalism, and clutter simply isn’t my style. These days, I rarely feel the urge to buy traditional souvenirs. Sometimes, I don’t buy anything at all.

Take only photos; leave only footprints.

So, how do I approach collecting memories instead? I follow the well-known travellers’ mantra “Take only photos, leave only footprints”. My camera is my most reliable companion, and I take countless photos along the way. I also carry a small notebook, jotting down place names, encounters, and fleeting impressions—capturing the details that might otherwise fade with time.

Once home, I love turning these memories into something more tangible. Sometimes, I create photo books, weaving in snippets from my notes to tell the story of each picture, each journey.

Other times, I collate albums filled with photos, maps, ticket stubs, written notes, and little mementos picked up along the way. Years later, flipping through these pages brings my travels back to life, sparking joy in a way that no mass-produced souvenir ever could.

Shopping With Purpose, Travelling With Respect

A meaningful souvenir is more than just an object—it’s a story, a memory, a connection to the place and people encountered on the journey. The best keepsakes don’t necessarily take up space; they hold the essence of an experience.

As travellers, we have the power to be intentional with our purchases. By shifting our mindset to value experiences over excess, we can collect memories that last far beyond any trinket.

So, next time you browse a souvenir shop, pause and ask yourself: Does this truly capture my journey?

If the answer is Yes—if it holds meaning, tells a story, or brings genuine joy—then it’s a souvenir worth bringing home.