And all I got was this lousy URL

No doubt many of you traveled this summer. Some of you went to exotic places, while others roamed more familiar roads. In your travels you may have bought souvenirs as reminders of your escapades. When you found that special something, did you wrap it carefully in your dirty socks and T-shirts, and hope the treasure would make it home safely? Or did your treasure make its way home by other means?

I've found in my travels of late that rather than lug heavy items home in my suitcase I instead make a mental note of the item and grab a business card -- www.insert-business-name-here.com -- "We ship anywhere in the world!" seems so much more convenient than worrying about how an expensive case of wine is faring in the overhead compartment.

But what is lost and what is gained by the convenience of online shipping when compared to the souvenir parceled home with one's luggage? We already know that sentimentality can indeed be bought and sold over the Internet ala the example of Ebay, but can the same effect be achieved with the sensory memories of travel?

I think so. Items may have the potential to lose their uniqueness with such ready availability -- i.e., being able to order fresh-baked bread from Paris with the ease of buying a book from Amazon.com -- but I believe the memory is still retained in the sensory experience. Eating the bread evokes the smells and sounds of the city, senses that are entrenched in the memory of a lively cafe meal. And the Lady Primrose bubble bath I occasionally order reminds me of the night my husband and i stayed at the uber-fancy Lanesborough Hotel in London while on our honeymoon.

What makes ordering these items discovered while traveling different from ordering from a Pottery Barn catalog is the original visceral experience. Without a story, an object is just a meaningless object. Smart marketers have capitalized on this by creating histories to go along with their products that encourage us to live vicariously through another person's souvenirs (think of the J. Peterman company or Restoration Hardware).

The attraction of the souvenir lies not in the object itself, but in its relationship with the memory. It's a tactile reminder of something done somewhere else. Technology can help us evoke those moments of travel, but without the organic and human experience, stories are just fiction -- and objects are just functional.

Whether your treasure comes home straight away, packed gently in a suitcase or a month later in a brown UPS box, as long as the memory is attached it's still a treasure.