Dudes, there is nothing like a matching set of overpriced fluffy as hell towels that you personally, intentionally, fold and hang artfully in your bathroom. Sometimes I stare at my bathroom (when it’s actually, you know, clean) and just feel so god damn proud of how… real and grown up it looks. I just wanna bring everyone who happens to come into my house over and show them, point at it and go “Look how much of an adult I am! My bathroom is color coordinated! I spent way too much on those towels but they feel like the purest unicorn fur when I run them across my body and they match the fucking curtains!”
I don’t do this… but I want to. Man, do I want to.
So basically towels, but for your bed, and, you know, less absorbent I guess. I think it’s pretty common knowledge that freshly cleaned sheets is one of the best thing in the world (especially when combined with freshly shaven legs…mmmm) but this is further improved if the thread count is high (another important yet menial part of adulting happens to be understanding the importance of thread count, or at least pretending you do) and if they match the window curtains and rug. Toss in some useless throw pillows with rhinestones that could literally poke your eye out if you laid on it, and your metamorphosis is complete.
3. Couch Pillows or just pillows in general.
Never underestimate the power of a new pillow (minus rhinestones) on your bed. It’s like resting your weary adult head on a beautiful sea of golden clouds. Also, there is something horribly satisfying about finding pillows that match your cheap second-hand couch somewhere and then victoriously arranging them on said shitty couch. Look at that ascetic! Look at that decorative freaking comfort! LOOK AT IT!
Now buy an afghan and call it a day, you’ve done it: Ultimate Adulthood level reached!
4. Kitchen stuff.
If someone had told me at fourteen that I would be over-the-moon excited about a big electric mixer and a set of matching spatulas on Christmas morning, I would have thrown my emo/punk rock music collection directly into their faces. Then I probably would have run to my room and written really shitty poetry about the darkness inside my heart, or something.
5. Electric Teapots.
Okay, so maybe this is just me but basically it goes like this:
I went to China, I bought a fancy handmade tea set and all the trappings (like a tray and a strainer and mats and stuff, really highclass shit here guys), and put it in my office/study/hideawayfrommykidandhusband. I actually use this tea set alot but I found the trip to the kitchen and the added necessity of waiting for water to boil—tedious.
First world problems, right?
So I told the husband guy that I wanted an electric teakettle for my birthday (god, 13 year old me is so pissed at that sentence) and lo and behold, there it was! Beautiful and efficient, just like I wanted. And guys it was ceramic and adorable and everything I ever dreamed of.
There may have been tears in my eyes, I don’t even know (it might be worth noting that I also got a beautiful diamond necklace, but, well… I think you can guess now which I was more excited about). Somewhere in my soul a tiny voice cried out ‘what has happened to you, where have you gone astray!’ But the other part of me was too freaking excited about the teakettle and not having to leave my office to get my fancy-tea fix that I didn’t care (God, I sound so domestic, ugh).
This could probably apply to many basic and boring kitchen appliances, so pick your poison I guess.
Am I the only person who still feels weirdly like an imposter when perusing the whiskey section? Like my grandmother is going to come barreling around the corner and beat me with a wooden cooking spoon or something. There’s this weird sensation of getting away with something every time I make it through the checkout line and I just kind of look at my booze collection on top of the fridge when I get home and think –yes, yes I am a grown human with mind-addling liquids of my own, admire me!
Recently my husband and I got legitimately and disgustingly excited about buying a really ‘cool’ set of silverware at the store impromptu one day. When we got home we actually -totally serious here- got in a fight over who would get to open them and then organize them in the drawer. I think he won, but I rearranged them later, so it’s all good.
8. Stuff that smells good.
Laundry detergent, dryer sheets, air fresheners, wax-melty-thingys, candles, bath bombs, soap –God, I just want all the best smells in the world and I want to put them directly in my house all the time for always and forever and ever. Consequently I have way more air fresheners than any human being could possibly go through in three life times.
I’m now picturing my grandchildren unearthing a box of Febreeze bottles and passing them down to their children very ceremoniously (do those things have an expiration date? Huh, I wonder.)
9. Wine Glasses (Bonus Points if they’re crystal).
Okay so I didn’t buy these, there were a wedding present, and they have our initials on them (classy, I know), but close enough. There is just something about those wine glasses, man. No matter how cheap the wine I actually pour into them is, they instantly adult the shit out of my evening. Like, I feel the need to play classical music and sit near a fire (in the middle of an Arizona summer) while reading poetry to my dogs… or something.
10. Buying a whole box of cookies, or a cake, for no reason.
This is not something I do often (I’ve only done it twice), but let me tell you, it was worth it. There is something powerful about the realization that you can quite literally mosey on down to your local grocery store and buy a cake for no reason other than that you really want cake. It could even say freaking ‘Happy Birthday!’ on it and it wouldn’t matter, because no one is going to care, no one is going to question you. Then you can take yourself back home and eat it, eat it all, every piece, you don’t have to share with a single person, and no one is going to yell at you.
That’s a true taste of freedom, my friend.