Inside the museum filled with stories from the broken-hearted
The museum of the broken-hearted where every exhibit tells a sad story… from the wedding dress that was never worn after the groom died in a terror attack, the axe that chopped up a cheating lover’s furniture and a 27-year-old SCAB from a first romance
- Museum of Broken Relationships is a collection of mementos from former lovers
- The museum was set up by Croatian ex-lovers Olinka Vištica and Dražen Grubišić
- Features unworn wedding dress after groom-to-be was killed in a terrorist attack
- There is a piece of ‘belly button lint’ kept by a lover in a ‘tumultuous relationship’
An elegant untouched wedding dress from Istanbul takes centre stage as you step into the museum dedicated to the broken-hearted.
The soon-to-be groom’s biggest dream had been to have a summer wedding so the engaged couple specifically postponed their special day from May 2015 to July 9, 2016.
But just a week before, on June 28, 2016, while waiting for a bus to go home from his work at the airport, the fiancé awaiting his new life as a husband was caught up in a deadly terrorist attack in Istanbul. He never made it to the wedding.
A pristine white wedding dress takes centre stage. It reveals the story of a soon-to-be groom waiting for a bus to go home from work who was killed in an Istanbul terrorist attack, just a week before the special day
A lover kicked their girlfriend out the house after being cheated on. They axed one piece of her furniture each day for the 14 days she had gone on holiday with her new partner
‘A week before he passed away, we had our pre-wedding photo shoots … My wedding dress is the best representation of the day I want to remember him by,’ reads the caption telling the story behind the outfit.
The dress now remains a staple figure inside the Museum of Broken Relationships – a tragic yet fascinating journey into grief, loss and heartbreak.
Based in the beautiful baroque Kulmer palace in the Upper Town of Croatia’s capital Zagreb, the museum gathers an ever-growing collection of belongings that each represent a symbol from the past.
Set up by ex-lovers and artists Olinka Vištica and Dražen Grubišić in 2006 following their own break-up, the point of all the detritus is to document the impact of letting go of love and the flotsam that remains behind.
The ex-couple first produced an installation during an art show but four years later their vision was cemented in a permanent museum from 2010, where there are now believed to be around 3,000 objects and stories.
The Museum of Broken Relationships (pictured in Zagreb) also has a venue in Los Angeles and often does exhibitions on tour around the world, including in London, New York, Tokyo and Sydney
The personal yet anonymous stories offer a somewhat unique experience as you process hundreds of heartbreaking break-ups.
Much of the collection are classic lovers’ gifts such as teddy bears bearing the message, ‘I Love You’.
But somethings are so unusual, you feel obliged to walk over and find out why and how it has ended up in the Croatian capital.
What meaning does an axe all the way from Berlin have? The anonymous message beside the tool reveals the story of a lover who was offered to travel the US for three weeks – only to return to have his heart broken.
During an emotional farewell at the airport the woman told her lover that she could not survive three weeks alone.
But upon returning to Berlin, she had quickly moved on and said: ‘I fell in love with someone else. I have known her for just 4 days, but I know that she can give me everything that you cannot.’
After kicking her out of the house, she went on holiday with her new girlfriend while the furniture stayed put… kind of.
‘Not knowing what to do with my anger, I finally bought this axe at Karstadt to blow off steam and to give her at least a small feeling of loss – which she obviously did not have after our break-up,’ the caption reads.
‘In the 14 days of her holiday, every day I axed one piece of her furniture. I kept the remains there, as an expression of my inner condition.
A lone stiletto donated by a former Amsterdam sex worker who details an incredible reunion with a married man she had been childhood sweethearts with, known as ‘T.’
The personal yet anonymous stories offer a somewhat unique experience as you process hundreds of heartbreaking break-ups
The elegant dress, pictured in the background, was never to be worn by a soon-to-be bride who lost her partner in an Istanbul terrorist attack
‘The more her room filled with chopped furniture acquiring the look of my soul, the better I felt.
‘A stiletto shoe’: The lone high heel that the married man holds on to
The story beside a lone stiletto heel reads: ‘It was 1959, I was ten, T. was eleven. We were very much in love. When I told my mother we had gone skinny dipping in the canal, I got my ears boxed and was sent to spend the rest of the school holidays with an aunt.
‘When I was fifteen, we had more wonderful times together until he moved to Germany with his parents.
‘Our goodbye came with many tears and promises. We would write every week and never marry anyone else.
‘It was 1998 and I had just stopped working in prostitution. I wanted to write a book about S&M and was going to work for a dominatrix for a few weeks.
The lone stiletto stands tall in the Museum of Broken Relationships
‘On the second day, the dominatrix allowed me to belittle and whip a client.
‘First I made him lick my stilettos. Because he wasn’t submissive enough and had the nerve to address me with ‘mistress’ (instead of ‘high mistress’), I wanted to whip him harder.
‘And that was when I recognised him, ‘T., is that you?’ He was startled and stood up.
‘At once we were back in 1966. He told me he had the desire to be submissive because his father had often beaten him as a child. T. was now in his second marriage, and he wanted to make it work.
‘It was better we never saw each other again. After a few hours we said our goodbyes, and he asked, ‘Can I keep one of your stilettos as a memento?’
‘When he walked out the door, it felt like my stiletto-less foot was no longer mine.’
‘Two weeks after she left, she came back for the furniture. It was neatly arranged into small heaps and fragments of wood. She took that trash and left my apartment for good. The axe was promoted to a therapy instrument.’
Nearby, a lone stiletto looks odd not in a pair. Is this some kind of Cinderella moment, you wonder.
But no, it has been donated by a former Amsterdam sex worker who details an extraordinary sexual reunion with a married man she had been childhood sweethearts with, known as ‘T.’.
She recalls meeting him in 1959 and skinny dipping in the canal, aged just ten and 11. Later, aged 15, they had more ‘wonderful times together’ before being separated when he moved away to Germany with his parents.
‘Our goodbye came with many tears and promises,’ she said. We would write every week and never marry anyone else.’
But in 1998, after stopping life as a sex worker, she had visions of writing a book about S&M sex and decided to work for a dominatrix for a few weeks.
‘On the second day, the dominatrix allowed me to belittle and whip a client. First I made him lick my stilettos,’ she describes.
‘Because he wasn’t submissive enough and had the nerve to address me with ‘mistress’ (instead of ‘high mistress’), I wanted to whip him harder.’
‘And that was when I recognised him, “T., is that you?” He was startled and stood up. At once we were back in 1966.
‘He told me he had the desire to be submissive because his father had often beaten him as a child.
‘T. was now in his second marriage, and he wanted to make it work. It was better we never saw each other again.
‘After a few hours we said our goodbyes, and he asked, “Can I keep one of your stilettos as a memento?” When he walked out the door, it felt like my stiletto-less foot was no longer mine.’
Walking around the collection, you start to realise something so tangible, so object-like, can have an incredibly deeper meaning.
Perhaps no better item to encapsulate that is a ’27-year-old scab from a wound of my first love’.
Yes, you are reading that correctly. The story reveals that in 1990, a lover’s fear of losing their partner after a motorbike accident that left him with severe road rash and ‘several large crusts’.
‘Since then I had constant fear that I might lose my dearest one,’ they said.
‘For that reason I kept one of his crusts as it fell off, with the (not so serious) idea that in case of need I could have him cloned.
‘At that time I studied biology. My constant fear for him finally made us come apart. Paradoxically my fear caused precisely that which I was afraid of most. I have kept the crust until today, twenty-seven years long.
‘In the meantime I have become a biologist. However, the desire to clone my partner from that time exists no more. But I am still struggling with my fears.’
For those visiting, there is also the opportunity to take a moment to share your own heartbreak in a special book, filled with a plethora of messages
The museum has been handed some unusual contributions at times. Pictured left is a ’27-year-old scab from from a wound of my first love’. Meanwhile, on the right, is a piece of belly button lint from a woman’s partner
Perhaps you would need a magnifying glass for the next item in the collection. A lone piece of ‘belly button lint’ lies there with the caption: ‘D.’s stomach had a particular arrangement of body hair that made his belly button prone to collecting lint’.
Instant intrigue.
‘Occasionally, he’d extract a piece and stick it to my body, which was sweaty after sex,’ it continues.
‘One day, angry he’d disrupted the heavy charge that lingered in the wake of an orgasm, I met his oddity with my own: I put the lint in a small baggie and concealed it away in the drawer of my bedside table.
‘Our relationship was tumultuous; as off-again as it was ever on. From time to time, he would remind me that he wasn’t really in love, but I blithely ignored the warning. He gave me his lint, after all.’
The museum has this unique ability to make you laugh one minute and silence you the next.
Next, there is a simple postcard – but there is more than meets the eye. It has been handed in by a 70-year-old woman from the Armenian capital, Yerevan.
A 70-year-old woman from the Armenian capital, Yerevan, donated this postcard. It was put through her postbox by the neighbour’s son who was in love with her. When he was told by her parents that he could not be with her, he drove himself off of a cliff
The Museum of Broken Relationships was set up by ex-lovers and artists Olinka Vištica and Dražen Grubišić in 2006 following their own break-up. Pictured: The museum shop
‘Stupid Frisbee’ as bought in a thrift store by the lover’s ex-boyfriend as a second anniversary gift. The description reads: ‘The moral was obviously that he should be smacked with it right across the face the next time he gets such a fantastic idea.
‘This is a postcard that was inserted through the slit of my door a long time ago by our neighbours’ son,’ she said.
‘He had been in love with me for three years. Following the old Armenian tradition, his parents came to our home to ask for my hand.
‘My parents refused saying that their son did not deserve me. They left angry and very disappointed. The same evening their son drove his car off a cliff…’.
While there is an incredible amount of heartbreak trapped within the museum’s doors, there is also the opportunity for former lovers to have a laugh about their failed relationships.
One object that has been donated is called ‘Stupid Frisbee’. It was bought in a thrift store by the lover’s ex-boyfriend as a second anniversary gift.
The description reads: ‘The moral was obviously that he should be smacked with it right across the face the next time he gets such a fantastic idea.
‘Since the relationship is now preceded by the word “ex,” the Frisbee remains in the Museum as a nice memory and expelled negative energy. Feel free to borrow it if you like.’
A recent addition to the collection is an empty bag of fortune cookies attached to a Starbucks cup – an unusual pairing but one that carries weight.
‘You were my first love. And I wished you would also be my last,’ the caption reads.
‘When we got those fortune cookies and I opened mine, it read “You have to learn to read between the lines”.
‘I should have followed that advice because between those lines there was you cheating on me over and over. Isn’t that ironic?’
The Museum of Broken relationships also has a venue in Los Angeles and often does exhibitions on tour around the world, including in London, New York, Tokyo and Sydney.
The LA museum – which is temporarily closed – is best known for its ‘Wedding Dress In A Jar’ memento.
It tells the story of a married woman whose husband told her after seven years together that he ‘felt stuck and that he probably didn’t love me anymore’.
‘When we got those fortune cookies and I opened mine, it read “You have to learn to read between the lines”. ‘I should have followed that advice because between those lines there was you cheating on me over and over. Isn’t that ironic?’
‘Wedding Dress In A Jar’ is in the Los Angeles Museum of Broken Relationships. It tells the story of a married woman whose husband told her after seven years together that he ‘felt stuck and that he probably didn’t love me anymore’. Her dress now sits crammed inside an old pickle jar
She reveals that it was his idea to get married and they had a small ceremony where she worse a non traditional silk dress covered in flowers.
‘He’s been gone a year and I haven’t really known what to do with the dress,’ she explains.
‘I don’t particularity enjoy looking at it either. So I have crammed it in this old pickle jar. Mostly for space reasons but any sort of appropriate pickle metaphors can also be invoked.’
Ex-lovers are regularly asked to contribute their belongings, either through a physical donation or via a virtual contribution where they can put a pin on a map and share their story.
For those visiting, there is also the opportunity to take a moment to share your own heartbreak in the special ‘Book of Confessions’, filled with a plethora of emotional messages.
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