An Archaeological Dig Through the Back Closet

Spurred (shamed?) by a large number of visitors staying with me Thanksgiving weekend, the Snarkshelfs embarked on a big closet-cleaning project on Saturday.

It was a productive morning, with all kinds of things making their way to the donate and throw out pile.

Somewhere in between is the island of lost wedding presents.

You know you have some of these, and the longer you have been married the more lonely these gifts become. My lost wedding gifts were not actually lost. I knew exactly where they were for 17.5 years; they just very quickly gathered dust when the reality-check of life became much more essential than a gravy boat.

The lost wedding gifts are items you may even have thought you wanted way back, when you were imagining what your grown-up, married life would be. They may have been items your mom demanded you put on your bridal registry (not copping to the fact she herself has a closet of lost wedding gifts, circa 1961).

You may have thought you would have a contemporary house one day, thus a metal sculpture sits unloved in your condo. You may have thought about formal sit-down dinners for 12, not pizza for four. You may not even be married anymore, which means the lost wedding gifts were divided or donated, along with your money and expectations, in a much lonelier fashion.

Among my lost wedding gifts:

* A bread maker. This was the hot wedding gift circa 1994. It last saw a loaf of challah in about 2000. Carbs and the middle age waist are not going to live happily ever after. A freecycle shopper is picking it up late today.

You don't even eat bread anymore, lard ass.

* A set of the heaviest, leaded crystal, expensive, gold-rimmed wine glasses - ever. Seriously, fill one of these with a little Pinot Noir and I can barely lift it. Did I register for these because I thought I was serving Passover at Buckingham Palace? I wish I could remember.

Salut! This will dress up that Two-Buck Chuck

* A platter we call "The Wimbledon Trophy." This is a round dish that measures nearly three feet across. It has a rough, pebbled glass surface. It is a work of art. If I had a high-ceilinged contemporary home, I would leave it on the big dining room table always.

Alas, I have a three-bedroom Colonial with no defined dining room. Once every couple years, I take the Wimbledon trophy it from the basement storage room (it won't fit into a cabinet; think orphaned bicycle wheel) and fill it with sushi or mini desserts and it looks fab. The rest of the time, it takes up space.

Did you know you can fit 200 little lemon squares on here?

I am going to give it to BFF Justine, who has a Contemporary home and a large dining room. At least it can breathe the air there, even if it becomes a receptacle for permission slips and bills.

* A fully outfitted picnic basket. Never used. Not once.

Just another reminder that you, indeed, do not live in a Ralph Lauren commercial.

There are wedding gifts in my home that are well loved. I know exactly where they are. A stainless steel set of dining utensils that gets used every day. A cobalt blue souffle dish that is my go-to for all kinds of serving. We are still cooking with a mid-priced set of T-fal cookware, circa 1994.

Some of the most used items have a couple of nicks and cracks from overuse, kind of like their owners.

Housewares, like marriages, have to evolve. Some dishes have broken and been updated. Cloth napkins get stained and replaced. Like hairstyles and skirt lengths, housewares go in and out of style. Today's bread machine is tomorrow's maxi dress.

I am still hanging on to the pasta machine and the soup tureen. They make me look not a day over 30, right?