This post started as “In Praise Of A Well-Organzied Medicine Cabinet”, but then I thought about it and that just sounds so awful. Writing an entire entry on how to style your dental floss and display your foot scrub is the rantings of an enormous dick nipple, and while I’m not above Goop-ifying my blog from time to time I cannot in all good conscience pass up the opportunity to acknowledge how neurotic I am as a adult human man who buys ceramic trays on which to rest electric razors.
This post will be obnoxious. You will roll your eyes. Twice, if not three times. I know this and I want you to know I know this, which is why I’m playing D this go-around.
Below is a list of slop questions I assume you jerk nuggets would ask. I will do my best to answer them in my typically witty and intelligent fashion while also satisfying your insatiable need to know about how to declutter and style the most important cabinet in your mom’s life.
I invite you to join me in the hysterical laughter:
Q: So confused. What should be in a medicine cabinet?
A: OK, first, your thinly veiled sarcasm is not appreciated and, second, how dare you, sir. Medicine cabinets are for your crazy pills and other day-to-day necessities, like hair product, cologne and, if you’re like me, the copious amounts of condoms you burn through on a weekly basis (obviously). Medicine cabinets are not for your mouthwash bottle collection, that free body scrub you got with your purchase of $50 or more at the Estee Lauder counter, or those large Band Aids you think you might need if you ever get into a motorcycle accident the same day your insurance lapses and the terrorists have destroyed all the hospitals. That stuff should not be in there. If you don’t use a product with any regularity it really has no place, and if you think it does then you’re a hoarder. Go to the Container Store, get one of those dollar shoe boxes, fill it with all that unnecessary junk and put it under the sink. Then go call A&E because your Listerine collection is scary and someone should film you with it.
Q: I may not use everything in my cabinet every day, but things like aspirin and ointment I use once a week or so. What do I do with that stuff, Paltrow?
A: So, while you’re at the Container Store buying your shoe box garbage buckets, pick up some of these fantastic lacquered boxes. They’re great for all the stuff you use occasionally but don’t need every day. I recommend a solid container for this stuff rather than a translucent one. It’ll keep things streamlined and tidy by hiding all those eye-rapey logos, ensuring your secrets will be safe when house guests riffle through your stuff during a dinner party. This way no one but you will know you use butt cream every now and again. (I mean, ointment? What’s that about?)
Q: Putting aspirin in a box is dumb. I don’t want to lift a lid and rummage around for that stuff. You’re dumb. This blog is dumb.
A: You don’t take aspirin every day. If you do, go see a doctor because you probably have a brain tumor and will die soon. I suggest cutting down on the Diet Coke now and giving yourself a shot at reaching 30. Then grow a pair and reconcile the fact that to have a clean, decluttered cabinet you may have to lift a lid or two. It’ll add a few seconds to your pill party, tops. Nothing great was ever achieved by being lazy. Unless you’re Garfield or Terry Kiser.
Q: SUP BRAH. AS A FELLOW BRO HOW U DEAL WID ALL DAH BEARD HAIR THAT GETS ON DAH SHELVES AFTER U SHAVE??? YEET.
A: To start, please address me as El Jefe or nothing at all, and El Jefe feels you on the residual whiskers. They’re pervasive and insidious and no matter how well you’ve cleaned your razor a stray one will always appear from underneath your toothbrush and cause you to gag. Stop these annoying stubble abortions from collecting on your shelves and hustle your buns over to Muji! They have these beautiful ceramic cups and trays to hold your face mowers and round up all the hair so you won’t have to pull everything out and wipe the cabinet shelves down with a wet rag every other week (or every other month since I know some of you are dirty, dirty little squirrels). If you’re like me and can barely afford the WiFi you’re blogging on you can thrift some vintage double shot glasses. I did and they work great for my tweezers and (sadly) nose clippers.
Q: When will you be posting nudes?
A: Soon, if my readership doesn’t improve.
Q: I don’t collect mouthwash but I do use it. What does that mean in the perverse and suppressive world you live in?
A: Good question! I, too, use mouthwash, not because I find it humbling to be like the commoners, but because I like a crisp set of chompers before I leave for work in the morning. I’m only human! But what makes me a better human? The fact that I don’t want to open my medicine cabinet to a bunch of screaming, metallic labels (read: CAPITALISM). Nope. I don’t want to see that mess. Instead I pour my teeth soap into a small unmarked container, and I do the same with my face wash and toner. Sure, that’s fussy, but I’ve been in some of your bathrooms and I’ve opened your drawers and that gallon jug of hydrogen peroxide makes me think you’re a serial killer.
The moral of the story is if you don’t want people to think you killed and skinned your neighbor go get a couple of these cheap-o bottles from Ricky’s and stop whining. Maybe even have fun with it and decorate them a little or something. I don’t know. Go wild. What do I care?
Q: I can’t with you.
A: That was really more of a statement but 😉
Q: OK, I’ll bite but only because I find your pretension to be an adorable character flaw and you should be pitied, not mocked. What are some things that can class up the traditional medicine cabinet?
A: That may be the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me! Thank you for your words, kitten. This question hits my sweet spot: pomp and circumstance. Medicine cabinets are so…clinical. Traditionally they’re not very stylish or fun at all, so I try to zhuzh it up a little, you know, and have fun with it. I shave with an old timey razor (this one from Baxter of California) because it makes me feel like Jack Nicholson in Chinatown, and next to it I keep a small hand mirror my Dad carried with him during his service. Years ago I had a framed picture of Whoopi in my medicine cabinet, but that was really just to let my friends know that I knew they were snooping.
Q: I weeded out all the stuff I don’t use daily and I still have, like, 18 thingies of pomade. I have the pre-conditioning paste, the root wax, the mineral relaxer, the detoxifying gel, the gluten-free diary-free hormone-fee stem cell-infused thickening spray, the tea tree glue, the frizz-reducing lotion, the shine-enhancing serum and the top coat. I need them. I NEED THEM ALL TO LEAVE THE HOUSE.
A: Mindy Kaling summed up my thoughts on this in book she wrote that almost no one has read or even heard of. On men’s grooming, she said:
“Kiehl’s for your skin, Bumble and Bumble for your hair. Maybe a comb. That is all you need. and when girls look in your medicine cabinet (which they will obviously do within the first five minutes of them coming to your place), you look all classily self restrained because you only have two beauty products. You’re basically a cowboy.” *
I fully subscribe to this celestial way of thinking. Let’s all be sexy cowboys! You don’t need all that other stuff anyway and with it gone your medicine cabinet will join the ranks among some of the best (mine).
I’m of course only talking to the men. Ladies, I don’t know what to do about you because I’ve never been one of you, but I kind of feel the same. No one needs all that product. Trust in your natural beauty and join the guys. Be lady cowboys.
*Or something like that. I don’t know. Go buy her book and read it for yourself. I’m sure she’s struggling and could use the income.
Q: My mom always said not to have glass in the bathroom. That’s why I have bar soap in a plastic travel container and my cotton balls stay in the drug store bag.
A: You and your mom are complete savages. No glass in the bathroom? YOU WERE RAISED BY WOLVES. Crate & Barrel has some great vessels (yes, vessels) to store your q-tips, cotton pads and swabs and whatever else you might want to drag along your face. Their kitchen section is enormous, which is really the place you should be looking for affordable glass containers. All that bathroom-specific garbage is a snooze and over-priced but something from the pantry can fit nicely and is half the cost.
That’s it. I think I’ve squeezed enough blood from this stone. If you’ve gotten this far you can brag to your friends that you’ve read the greatest entry so far into the World Wide Web. If you liked this post, do nothing. If you found this post to be the antithesis of everything good and holy on the planet then please email me for my bank account and routing number. I’ll only stop if you pay me.
You’re welcome and good day.
This was hi-larious and made my day. Also, your medicine cabinet is beautiful. But bro – that Dove Men+Care Deoderant sticks out like a sore thumb.
DO NOT COME AT ME ABOUT THE DEODORANT, DUDE. It’s the only thing my delicate man body can handle. Also I wouldn’t shit you about my common denominators. I buy Dove and sometimes I fall asleep to a Housewives reunion. I’m not proud of this stuff but things happen and we move on.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s an OK deodorant, my point was that everything else is so nice and clean and thoughtfully hidden when necessary, then you’ve got this big plastic logo emblazoned capitalist stick. Thought you would have put it in a box or something, is all.
It’s New York in the summer. Deodorant application is at its peak when we hit Sweat Terror Level: MAGENTA. (There is no hiding that giant stick when I’m putting it on 3 times a day)
I’m going to buy you like, a stylish white sticker or something you can put over it to make it look cleaner. This is causing me physical discomfort.
Keep your sticker. Send me the money. #loveme
I happen to hate medicine cabinets but realize they’re necessary. I decided to leave the doors off of mine when I remodeled the bathrooms so they’re open shelves and I’m FORCED to keep them tidy. So this post is very helpful. Thank you and I look forward to your nudes.
They are absolutely necessary. What is *not* absolutely necessary is forgetting to screw on the doors. GEORGE WHAT WERE YOU THINKING. You’re far braver than I. That’s, uh, really, um, putting it aaaaaall out there, isn’t it? The thought of it gives my full-sized aortic pump palpitations.
As for the n00dz, well, let’s just say a man without medicine cabinet doors is probably flush with them already. Mine are not needed!
This makes me feel 100x better about my neuroticism about my medicine cabinet and my distain for bathroom product logos. Thank you for that. The logos are the main reason I use Baxter of California and Ursa Major products. And I also await nudes.
I love Ursa Major as well, you filth bird!
At least you have a medicine cabinet! Apparently, my landlord is fine reducing me to animal with copious amounts of things spread across my minimal counter space. I may try to use some of your ideas to become a slightly more refined animal with what I have though…
That’s the pits, I’m sorry!
At least you have a medicine cabinet! Apparently, my landlord is fine reducing me to some kind of animal with copious amounts of toiletries spread across my minimal counter space. However, I may use some of your tips to help me appear a slightly more refined animal. So thanks for that…
I await the nudes as well or at least some appropriately sexy beefcake shots. Oh,nice organizational skills,too.
Oh, Michael. You sound like the guy who taught my Sunday school.