I saw Sex and the City recently. Carry Bradshaw is going to marry Mr. Big and they buy their dreamhouse together. Their dreamhouse, nothing like mine, is a Manhattan penthouse flat. Which means Mr. Big must be a quadrabillionaire. That's beside the point. Carry floats around the loft, enjoying the rooftop patio and all the wonderful lighting. Until she gets to the closet. The closet is very small. Mr. Big grins and says he'll build her a new one.
More than anything about this film, I was vexed how Mr. Big seemed to create space when he rebuilt Carry's closet to be the size of most houses. The only thing I could think of was, "what room disappeared?" The apartment was on top of a building. It's not like you can add a side wing. Giving Carry a big closet meant getting rid of....the living room? The kitchen?
I don't think I'll ever need any such closet in my dream house. I don't really do shoes. I've got running shoes, hiking shoes, house shoes, and about four pairs of fancy shoes. That's less than most men.
And my clothes don't need their own space to breath. Who knows, maybe when I get married my priorities will change and I'll become as superficial as these fictional clusters of housewife socialites, but until then, a couple racks for hangers and a nook for shoes is about all I need.
The only other thing I need these days is a good health blog. And I seem to have found that blog with this paleo diet post I read recently. It's funny, informative, and true. What could be better?
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