FashBlog.com

In my closet at this very moment, there are at least 4 socks whose mates have disappeared, and I have searched everywhere to no avail. Two friends have sworn that they are living in the limbo between my washing machine’s main tub and the outer shell. Out of curiosity, I called Maytag to see if it was possible for clothes to slip through that small crack that opens up while the load is agitating without causing any other problem, and the rep had no idea. (I love helpful service folks.) Hope springs eternal, though-I’ll hold onto them a bit longer, because if I don’t, their partners will show up next week. (Of course they’re not the generic socks of which we all have several pairs-those are around forever. I’m missing a fancy massaging-type of bootie, a cute, fuzzy penguin sock, and other decorative ones that I probably will never find again.)

And then there are gloves. Where do these things go? It seems quite simple; you take them off and put them in pockets. How can one stay and one disappear? It’s another mystery of life. There’s a pile of those in my closet, as well.

If I wasn’t continuously picking up abandoned jewelry of my daughter’s and putting it where it belonged, we’d have a lot of that missing as well, but even with my conscientiousness, that small stuff has a way of making itself scarce just as you’re in a hurry trying to leave the house on time. Last night I slept with a bracelet on that fell off as I was getting dressed. I know I picked it up, but darned if I remember what I did with it. Of course, 15 minutes later, it was nowhere to be found. I searched everywhere and lifted up every bedspread and couch skirt, thinking the cats may have batted it around. I had no luck in finding it. What stumps me is that it’s a bracelet, and therefore, kind of hard to miss. It’s not a contact lens, after all. So where do these things go?

My kid must have lost at least $20 worth of costume jewelry at school during this last year. (At about a buck per bracelet and a few more per ring or necklace, that’s a lot of misplaced items). I myself have had one good gemstone pendant and earrings simply not be there at the end of the day, and years ago, while vacuuming, heard the machine suck up something that jangled loudly; it was a lovely, dangling, gold chain earring. I can understand how an elastic beaded bracelet can break, but at least then you hear the beads clicking onto the floor. What I can’t understand is how a person can lose such a bracelet and never realize it until well after the fact. But I’m living proof that it can happen.

Hair ornaments are notorious for their disappearing acts. I’m not just talking covered rubber bands and bobby pins here; I mean, where could a wide headband go that it wouldn’t be noticed? A really funny thing is that I’ve never lost a scrunchie, and you’d think those would slip right off; I guess that hasn’t happened because I usually pin them into place. But if I didn’t, they’d be gone in a heartbeat as well.

Have you ever lost a scarf, or a large hat? I haven’t-probably by sheer virtue of the fact that if it’s cold enough to wear either, it’s probably too cold to take them off and leave them lying around. The one thing I can say I’ve never lost is a belt, but I daresay it has happened to many.

It’s usually the woman of the house who supposedly knows where everything is. Others can be staring into the refrigerator for five minutes and still not see what’s right in front of their eyes. A lot of the time, I’m good at discovering what’s invisible to others. But more than I’d like to admit, I’ve no idea where something is, and just hope that it turns up more sooner than later. If this is supposed to teach us patience and organized thinking, apparently we all must need a lot more practice!