In previous posts I’ve described my susceptibility to being taken in by advertising for the latest and greatest cosmetics and personal care products. There’s a cupboard in my basement with enough toiletries, shampoo and cosmetics to stock my own Shoppers Drug Mart or at least supply our whole neighbourhood until the end of (my) time, or in the event of a nuclear attack. The situation became so out of hand that I decided we needed a new vanity in our bathroom. The one that came with the house and installed by the builder had no drawers or shelves, just two cavernous holes behind lower cupboard doors. No matter how many organizers, stackers and baskets I put in there, I couldn’t accommodate everything and could never find what I was looking for.

After consultation with the nice lady at Lowes I ordered my dream vanity. It arrived on time, was installed and is now functioning beautifully. In fact, I have room to spare. In addition to the cupboards under each sink, I now have three easy-glide-return drawers and an adjoining linen cupboard with three sliding shelves and four fixed shelves. This is a product junkie’s wet dream.

Then, the other day an envelope arrived in the mail from my mother. It contained some old photos she thought I would like to have. One of the pictures was a black and white shot taken with my Brownie Starflash camera of me washing my face in my parents’ 1966 bathroom. The picture shows a single sink, one small mirror and to my left a utility cupboard that contained all the toiletry items and linens used by our entire family of four which was miniscule by today’s inventory. I know getting older means more maintenance but that picture was a sad reminder of the extent of my sins in the age of acquisition.

While I make a silent promise to myself to try and do better, I’m not optimistic. I do remember a friend of a friend telling me once that when she cleaned out her linen closet she threw out 54 bottles of nail polish! And that’s just what she threw out. She still had some left. There’s always consolation in knowing I’m not alone in my shortcomings. Just be thankful you know me when that nuclear disaster hits. I’ll be the one with no food or water but we’ll be clean, smell pretty, look good and will be the envy of every woman on the planet. Do I see Black Market in my future? And that new vanity? It was made in Canada by KraftMaid Cabinetry in Barrie, Ontario so I was just doing my bit for the Canadian economy. Paint me patriotic.