there can be only one

This weekend was medicine cabinet smackdown. I was so anxious about our impending shopping trip that, according to Joe, I woke him up the night before, standing on the bed and demanding to know when we were leaving. In reality, the trip wasn’t any worse than I expected.

Our main dispute with this piece has been metal (me) versus wood (him). Joe immediately fell in love with a $600 wooden chest at Expo. And I mean so in love that he offered to let me pick out the floor vents, the doors, and the bathroom light fixture if I let him buy this one piece. Obscene price tag or no, I knew I should take that deal, but—and I realize how totally unreasonable I sound here, and admitted as much to him—I couldn’t stomach the crown molding.

It’s not just that I despise crown molding; in my mind, that cabinet would tip the entire bathroom into full-on traditional mode. We already have a granite-topped undermount sink, marble floors and a wood vanity, tempered only by my one tiny, minimalist faucet. I might as well put out lacy doilies and curtain swags. I couldn’t do it, I told him.

While it was a nice change to be the veto-er instead of the veto-ee, Joe doesn’t take rejection nearly as well as I’ve come to learn to. I had to feed him before he’d even look in Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware. I’ve been set to order this medicine cabinet (at right) from RH for weeks, but Joe wouldn’t let me buy anything he couldn’t see in person. They didn’t have this model on display, but now that his spirit is significantly crushed and time is significantly short, I think he’ll cave. Of course, by the time we get it, I’m not sure we’ll have any aspirin left to fill the shelves.


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