Thursday, August 2, 2012

My Stand Mixer, Myself: Living Inside One’s Hope Chest

A snapshot I took while I was deciding on which color to order. Do price and model research before you buy. The same exact mixer I paid $349 for at Williams Sonoma (and there was a free shipping promo too!) was $440 at Bloomingdales and $500 at Macy*s.
 My love affair with the KitchenAid Stand Mixer has been no secret. For years, I’ve longed to have one of my own.  Literally, it had gotten to the point that my friends were just sick of hearing it and even sending me snapshots of ones they’d see while out-and-about. I have a job, regular income and a savings account and everything and while $400 is not a arbitrary amount of money- it’s something that I can afford. The money was my frequent excuse, but the money wasn’t what was holding me back. I was holding myself back. You see, the stand mixer was a lot more than a stand mixer. The stand mixer for me was the epitome of the hope chest. You know how some girls dream of diamonds and convertibles- that’s how I felt about my stand mixer. It was my Mt. Everest.

Over the course of the past few years, after making peace with my divorce and making the choice to be optimistic about my romantic future- the stand mixer came to embody all of the expectations I’d had for myself. The super religious, Disney obsessed, age ten Rachel’s head would probably explode to think that at almost twenty-nine, I’ve already been married, divorced and buried my father. In short, life doesn’t always turn out as expected. But hey, age ten Rachel also spent a lot of her childhood being devastated and terrified that the rapture would happen before the senior prom. Because, you know, that's something a child should totally be stressed out about, right? As per usual, I digress and no, I'm not religious anymore. The stand mixer wasn’t a gift that you buy yourself, it was a wedding gift. After convincing myself that it was a wedding gift, the next conclusion, naturally, was that if I bought one for myself it would be some sort of bad omen for my romantic future. My supreme logic had sincerely rationalized that if I bought myself a stand mixer- I’d be single forever.

Isn't she beautiful?
She's a KitchenAid 5-Quart Tilt-Head Artisan Series Stand Mixer in Pistachio.
(model KSM150PSER)

After an extremely short-lived but super-bummer of a “relationship”. I finally said, “screw it” and decided it was time for me to build a bridge, and get over it. After all, what are suspicions if not self-fulfilling prophecies? I finally just went online and bought the damn thing. Let me tell you, it did not help that the flash image that popped up on the KitchenAid website was a picture of a stand mixer, champagne and a wedding cake with the caption "the gift that says 'I do' everyday."  I ordered from Williams Sonoma, crossed my fingers and waited anxiously for the delivery. I always miss deliveries, but this one was special. I had decided to come home for lunch and not five minutes after I walked in the door- the postman cometh with a big beaming box of joy. I opened the box and hugged it. I hugged my stand mixer. She was beautiful in all of her seafoam green glory. I sent a picture to my girlfriends and was met with a collective and exasperated "finally."

Clearly, I'm not the only one that associates stand mixers with bridal showers.

You see, this stand mixer is still more than a stand mixer. Instead of an omen for perpetual singledom- it’s the inspiration for some major personal growth and changes. What else have I stigmatized that was holding me back? Why was I not creating the future that I want for myself? In relationships, even if you give 100% the most you can ever control is 50% because it involves another fully functional free-willed human being.  I can create the life that I want for myself and eventually somebody will fit into it. I will remain hopeful, but I will never again let my hope become my superstition... and yes, I probably will get those plates from Anthropologie that I've been eyeing for months.

1 comment:

  1. She's so beautiful! I am so touched by your story - because I too have experienced some of life's unexpected-ness all by the tender age of 27! Congrats to you Honey!