Necessities

by tess

I wasn’t always a lonely, bitter, disengaged woman. Before I was diagnosed with Personalitus Defectum (Latin for hateful bitch), I had friends. Of course I was five at the time but it’s true – once upon a time I actually had friends. And like most little girls in the mid-1960s, we looooooooooooved Barbie and created whole Barbie Villages in my bedroom. I don’t remember that the Barbies interacted so much as changed clothes a lot. They were like the beta version of Paris Hilton.

My Barbie was totally lucky. On her very first day at my house, I gave her a chic, super-short haircut. A choppy little ‘do that was very cute and years before her time! She was also totally fashion forward. Since my babysitter was a seamstress, she would use all of her scraps to make my Barbie clothes. No off-the-rack crap for my doll! All of Barbie’s couture coats had matching hats made of egg cartons, then covered (inside and out!) with fabric, and trimmed in faux fur and tiny seed buttons. Fab-u-licious!

One of my Barbie closets held two Barbies (who knew she was in the closet?), tons of hanger space, and two boxes labeled NECESSITIES. To this day whenever I see that word, I think of Barbie because that’s a really big word for a little kid. I think my parents told me a number of times what the word said but it didn’t stick because a) I didn’t really know what necessities were, and b) when you look at all those letters, you could sound it out any number of ways … all of which must have been confusing. One alternative to Necessities might have been “Crap Barbie Absolutely Positively Must Have Right This Second or She Will Die Before Your Eyes.”

I just read an article in which designers discuss their personal unnecessary purchases. A steam shower, a commercial grade stove, antique cat baskets lined with cashmere, a soft-serve ice cream maker. Yeah, those items definitely sound like things someone thinks they need, but then … not so much. Although a soft-serve ice cream maker sounds COMPLETELY AWESOME!

Last week The Hubs informed me that we don’t need an ebelskiver pan. He’s wrong. I think if we had one of these completely amazing pans, then I would want to make tiny wonderful nearly-crisp-on-the-outside-but-gooey-on-the-inside breakfast pancakes filled with scrummy condiments like raspberry jam, strawberry preserves, Nutella, blueberry compote, chocolate, and apple pie filling All The Time. How could I resist making these delicious delicacies? I can hardly even sit here typing thinking about how much I neeeeed to make these. Which means: I Need. To Buy. The Pan. How hard is that to understand? When we said we were cutting back, we meant that you were going to cut back. Did we not understand that? Du-uh-uh.

But I guess I do have to admit that not all of our must-own-immediately necessities are in fact necessary. Our tiny kitchen is overflowing with kitchen implements, some of which we don’t actually use quite as frequently as we might. Or … ever. The hundreds of chips-and-dip trays that never seem quite right. The Fry-O-Lator. Two fondue pots -- one for cheese and one for chocolate. The crepe maker. Margarita glasses that we never use but so totally WOULD use them if only we had that awesome $400 margarita machine! The waffle iron and the wok. The paella pan and the panini press. The slow cooker. The flavor injector (and seasoning gel that expired in 1999). The pizza peels and stone. The tortilla warmer and the asparagus steamer. Not to mention the grapefruit spoons which should never, ever, ever be used as a backup to the dirty spoons you’re too drunk to wash when you’re jonesing for ice cream at 3:30 A.M.

Okay, so maybe I won’t absolutely die if I don’t get an ebelskiver pan. But I do need that margarita machine. And a pair of jeans that fit. And new bathroom fixtures. And a bookcase for my cookbooks. And pull-out shelves in the pantry. And a frameless shower. And spinning barstools. And granite in the kitchen. And a big plasma TV. And a pool. And new wall-to-wall carpeting. And a new laptop. Necessities all.