Even though I’m Jewish, I remember at least once writing a this-is-what-I-want letter to Santa. (That was every kid, regardless of denomination, right?) I remember what I asked for: a plastic candy-cane-shaped tube filled with M&Ms. Talk about squandering an opportunity.
This year, I’ve already gotten everything I wanted materially. We closed on our first home, so sweet and cozy I recall literally squealing when I first set eyes upon it. More recently, I got a new 15-inch MacBook Pro, which felt downright bougie as a replacement for my Flintstones-era, employer-issued 13-inch MacBook that approximated the max productivity of an Apple IIc. On a trip last month to Las Vegas on assignment, I sat down at the bar at the end of a long work day, promptly hit four deuces on a deuces-wild video poker slot machine, and marched right into Crystals at CityCenter to parlay those winnings into my first-ever Louis Vuitton bag — something rather shockingly out of character for my death-before-retail philosophy. And then, this weekend, we sold my six-year-old Madza (still “new” according to my previous attitude toward car ownership) that had recently developed major mechanical problems, and turned it into a 2013 hybrid — a fancier car than I’ve ever had or even wanted.
All of that is to say, my material desires are more than fulfilled (to guilt-inducing excess, in fact) and I want neither M&M-filled candy cane nor anything else. Except one thing: this cut-crystal glassware from Williams-Sonoma.
When hubby and I registered for wedding gifts, we didn’t really know what we were doing, so he actually took the lead.
But in fairness, as the son of an interior decorator, he already knew more than I did at the time. We both decided against registering for china — I am a traditionalist in some ways and wanted it at first, but found most of the patterns hideously dated and not fresh — and plus we’re just so casual, we wouldn’t have needed it. However, one traditional thing for which I wish I’d lobbied harder is cut crystal. Something about it — apart from the look — is so satisfying. The heavy weight, the vintage character, the statement-making quality. And the fact that you can’t watch Boardwalk Empire without pining after it.
So I’ve looked around and keep coming back to one set at Williams-Sonoma: the Dorset lead-crystal barware. Evidently named for a picturesque county on England’s southern coast, the pieces have hand-cut fluting that seems to me adequately either feminine or masculine. I imagine buying a full set of the double old-fashioneds and using them for cocktails, and a set of the highballs for water and soft drinks. I’m not sure if that’s technically the way to do it, but it aint rocket science.
I see these as everyday pieces — #YOLO, right? — but husband would want to reserve them for guests and occasions. Either way, it’s a pretty, and accessibly affordable, set I’d love to have in the house.
Of course, all I need in this house is my husband, our pets, and our health and safety. The laptop, the LV bag, the car — that’s just icing. My cup already runneth over, you might say.1