As a little girl, I loved Cabbage Patch dolls, American Girl dolls, and Barbie dolls. Molly, Samantha, and Kirsten were some of my best friends. We talked about our lives. They shared stories about a world I never knew. They were enchanting. I had a ton of Barbies, the dream house, the pink Corvette, and at least a dozen Ken dolls. Large, clear Tupperware containers held the collection. I gently packed everything in one piece at a time, taking care to brush each doll’s hair, tying on bathing suits and clasping skirts, and finding the perfect heels. I imagined and enacted my life through Barbie dolls.
Each doll I’ve ever had was special to me. I never liked curly blond hair more than straight red. I never only wanted to play to play with Sparkle Beach Barbie instead of Hollywood Barbie. I never had just one favorite doll. Two decades later, I feel the same about wine glasses.
I have more wine glasses than shoes. True story.
I’ve collected and acquired wine glasses since college. I have a hand painted, thick, Chianti glass. Deep purple flowers and green ivy swirl the glass required for spaghetti and lasagna. My stem less wine glasses beg to be filled. This can be dangerous on school nights but a perfect combination on Fridays particularly towards the end of the semester. Cabernet usually looks gem-like in the pregnant glass and Chardonnay shines in the summer sun. The crystal, patterned champagne glasses have never been used and remain in the box. I prefer the flat, tall, supermodel champagne flutes for grapefruit mimosas on Saturdays.
The right glass makes a drink taste better, creates a happier drinker, a prettier picture. Similar to the dolls, none are necessarily better than the others. But, they all have their time and place.
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