Bathroom Closet Organization; or, Novel Uses for Shoe Organizers

I like for things to be organized.  It makes me feel good, and it calms some vaguely panicky nerve in the back of my mind that whispers, "something is unsettled."  Clearly abnormal, I know.  However, for the last few months, every closet in our house has been is a state of unsettled disarray.  I finally got around to tackling the bathroom/linen closet. (Pantry, you are next!)

I can't believe that I am showing the messy contents of my closet, but, you have to see the "before" to get the big picture.  Since I have organizational inclinations, I own things like fabric bins.  I also have some genetic impulse to save things that I don't necessarily need, like old shoe boxes and college-era shower caddies.  So, a fairly cobbled-together organizational system that isn't really working.  I especially like that the shoe box holding our meds is sitting askew on top of toothpaste and contact lenses.  Nice.

First, I pulled everything out.  Here, you really get the full effect.  Lots of stuff.  In random collections.  Although I love having the closet where it is, it can be a bit annoying because it is both deep and narrow.  I got the idea for using a pocket shoe organizer from a YouTube channel called HomeOrganizing.  The woman in the video uses hers on the back of a bifold door, but, of course, it works just as well on a regular door.  The only problem I had with mine is that it was wider than the door, so I had to fold one column of pockets back.  It is still functional, it just doesn't look as nice as it would on a wider door.  

I sorted everything into various categories by row and then by pocket.  So now, I have a pocket that just holds headache meds; one pocket just for sunscreen; etc.  I would like to find a way to label the pockets, but I haven't quite figured that out yet.  The two fabric bins went back on the shelf: the larger one has oversized items, like the packages of cotton balls and cotton swabs.  The smaller bin contains beauty products that I consider "seasonal"--I'm not wearing bright pink nail polish in winter, so there is no point in keeping it with my regular makeup.  Overall, I really like the outcome.  Now, our sheets are on a shelf all by themselves (by the way, placing your folded set of sheets into one of the pillowcases keeps everything neat and together).  I can access everything and know exactly where it is.

Here is a little bonus shot of my vanity drawer.  It is really shallow, but it works for this type of stuff.  The white bins came from Wal-Mart and the clear ones came from Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

So, it seems a bit strange to be showing off my closets and drawers, but I thought the shoe organizer was a really useful tip, so I wanted to pass it along.  Anyone have any special tricks for organizing bathroom items?

My Stress Response

Often, when I am stressed, my body doesn't register it as stress. I think, "I am fine, I just have to get this done. I don't know why my head is killing me and my stomach hurts. I am fine." I remember once when I was a senior in high school, I was really stressed. I had papers and projects and tests due. I was applying to college. Things were not going right. I was sitting in French class and my stomach was hurting. All I could think was, "I don't feel good, I want to go home and clean my room." I know, that's my stress response. Bodily pain and an overwhelming desire to put my physical world to right. I can't get anything done until my environment is in order. I finally convinced myself that I really was sick, so I got to call home. My mom came and picked me up. My mom is completely no nonsense. If you say you are sick, you had darn well better be sick. I remember that she asked me what was wrong, and I finally broke down crying and said, "My room's a mess!" I didn't get in trouble. She didn't fuss, or make me go back to school, or make me lay down in a dark room with no books. She took me to the grocery store. She bought me frozen chicken fettucini and a slice of frozen key lime pie. She took me home, fixed me lunch, told me to lay down for a while, and then to clean my room. Sometimes I wish I could still call home and have my mom pick me up. I would like some frozen key lime pie and the chance to put my world right.

Domestic Vampires: Domesticity in Twilight Part 1

I had planned to respond to a CFP that I was forwarded about Twilight. I had come up with an argument and taken several notes. But then, when I went to write the proposal, I realized that what I wanted to write about would not fit with what the editors wanted (youth, media, culture studies). I, of course, am interested in the domestic aspects of the novel (among other things), and since I won't be writing a chapter for a book (sigh), I am posting my ideas here.

I came across an article in the December 2008 issue of the Atlantic Monthly about Twilight called "What Girls Want" by Caitlin Flanagan in which she discusses the phenomenon of the series, their immense popularity, and their appeal for older readers like herself (and me!) In an almost throw-away comment, imbedded in a parenthetical aside she writes

"Bella is an old-fashioned heroine: bookish, smart, brave, considerate of other's feelings and naturally competent in the domestic arts (she immediately takes over the grocery shopping and cooking in her father's household, and there are countless weirdly compelling accounts of her putting dinner together - wrapping two potatoes in foil and popping them in a hot oven, marinating a steak, making a green salad...)" (112). (emphasis mine)

Bella is a domestic heroine, in an age in which domesticity has fallen out of favor. My argument is that the Twilight series may be read as a parable that re-inscribes nineteenth-century domestic ideology. If domestic fiction imagines the home as the acme of human bliss, then Meyer's work imagines that bliss to occur between the perfect, hyper-masculine (but ever-so sensitive) vampire Edward and the brave, smart, and domestic Bella.

Bella's domestic abilities make her oddly suited to be a Cullen and a vampire. The Cullen family is a model of old-fashioned domesticity - they are necessarily bound as a family and tied to their house, since each foray into the outside world is a risk of exposure. In Meyer's 5th addition to the series Midnight Sun, an early draft of which was leaked onto the internet, followed by Meyer posting an official pdf, a description of the Cullen family paints a picture of domestic leisure: Emmett and Jasper play an elaborate version of chess, Alice works on a design project for Rosalie's wardrobe, Rosalie herself tunes up her car, Esme "hums over a new set of blue prints," and Edward himself composes Bella's lullaby at the piano. An updated, modern image of the middle class domestic family at rest, gathered around the fire with their individual pursuits: reading, games, sewing, etc.

Clearly, there is more to say here, but I will leave that to a later post.... Comment! Please!

Domesticity and the Drapers: Gender Roles on Mad Men

Having recently watched the first season of AMC's Mad Men, I am interested in this look at domesticity in 1961. I think that it is falling into the old party lines of domesticity as entrapment. Betty Draper, the perky but depressed wife of main character Don Draper, is meant to embody the feminine ideal of the era. A blond, Grace Kelly-type, she attempts to perform the type of domesticity that it represented in those period Coca-Cola ads (which she models for in one episode). Betty is unquestionably domestic. She cooks - roasts, steaks, salads, and cakes. She cares for her children - the angelic girl, whom she is trying to make over in her own image, fretting about her weight and face, and the little boy who is too young to have much personality, apparently. Don tells her that her job, which she is better at than anyone else, is to take care of the children. But, this is clearly meant to be an empty consolation. Although Betty clearly tries to believe this, she obviously feels like she is missing out on something - her modeling career, the admiration that she could garner as a public woman in Manhatten, rather than the hidden housewife in the suburbs.

Betty is depressed, a diagnosis both she and her husband are reluctant to face. Her therapist is dismissive of her fears - her petty concerns which he labels as immature and childish - the neuroses of a housewife. The rhetorical position of the show seems to lead the reader to conclude that the root cause of Betty's depression is her trapped existence. Her life is shockingly empty, and although she is ostensibly the primary care-giver to her children, they are often with the maid or with a neighbor, and Betty is often shown sitting alone at her dining room table, a cigarette in one hand and a wine glass in the other. She is alone and she has nothing to do. Clearly the fate of all domestic women everywhere.

It seems frighteningly rare to see a positive image of female domesticity. Certainly, a woman should not be prevented from leading her own career, but the message seems to be that a full and active life and a concern for management of home and family are mutually exclusive. Betty's brief attempt at balancing her role as housewife and model fails. But not because she can't manage it - the worst that happens is Don gets a cold sandwich instead of baked ham for supper - but because she gives it up a the first rejection. Perhaps her problem is that in both roles, she is not seeking her own happiness, but rather the approval of others: that of her husband and the readers of Life.

Obviously, a complicated situation, made even more complicated by the show's attempt to accurately represent the problems faced by women on the cusp of first wave feminism. Have we reached an appropriate balance now? While women are now encouraged to follow any career they choose - a great and good gain, I wonder if the pendulum hasn't swung too far in the other direction, and we have been conditioned to see domesticity as a trap. The issue of balance is also problematic, because it pushes women to attempt to be superwomen, juggling everything with perfect grace and ease, an often impossible task. How do we reconcile the two - without pushing ourselves to the brink?

Defining Domesticity

The term domesticity hardly seems to need defining. It is not commonly used in everyday parlance, but can quickly be intentified as a derivative of "domestic," which is rather more commonly used. People talk about "being domestic" as in "I am going to be domestic this weekend and do some laundry." On the other end, domesticity as a concept and lifestyle seems to have been assigned solely to stay at home mothers and Martha Stewart disciples. Certainly, there is more to it than this.

Domesticity has a historical context. In the nineteenth century, domesticity was seen as the realm of middle and upper class white women in Britain and America. It indicated wifehood and motherhood as the management of the home as the role for women. Clearly, today, this is problematic, and helps to explain the knee-jerk reaction that many people have when they hear the term domesticity, equating it with oppression and sexism. As Nina Baym says in Woman's Fiction, "domesticity is equated with entrapment" (26). This short-changes the concept of home and family and how women can relate to them. In the nineteenth century, domestic fiction was actually empowering. Prior to the emergence of the genre, most fiction about female characters followed a common plot, one in which women were invariable made into victims; sentimental fiction or novels of sensibility focused on women who were innately good and pious but who are somehow abused, betrayed, seduced, and abandoned. While these novels were perhaps useful in illuminating the plight of women, the fates of these female characters was less than inspiring, usually involving insanity, death, or insanity and then death. In the best cases, the woman was able to reform the rake who was attempting to seduce her, although this makes for questionable husband-material (see Richardson's Pamela).

Domestic fiction, on the other hand, written by women, refused to imagine women as victims. These writers "were unwilling to accept, and unwilling to permit their readers to accept, a concept of woman as inevitable sexual prey" (26). Instead, women had power over the home, and the home was the center of the world. The domestic arrangement and the happy home was the "acme of human bliss." While domestic fiction is often linked to the concept of separate spheres, such a term is perhaps misleading. The home is not cordoned away from the "real world" of the market and public interactions, but instead "everybody was to be placed in the home, and hence, home and the world would become one." This has significant implications for female power: "to the extent that woman dominated the home, the ideology implied an unprecedented historical expansion of her influence" (27).

How does this function today? Do we see domesticity as oppressive? or is there something still empowering in domesticity? In a post-feminist society, does the concept of the domestic world raise hackles or are we seeing an increasing return to home as people become disenchanted with the public realm?