60 Going To 14 - My Glass Vanity

I have to say—this makes me so happy. It takes me back to a sweet, uncomplicated time in my life, full of promise and possibilities. I was 14 when I got my glass vanity. I can’t remember if it was something I begged for or if my parents simply surprised me with it, but I’ll never forget the excitement of seeing it for the first time.

It wasn’t fancy, not by today's standards. It wasn’t store-bought—it was DIY, pieced together with care and probably on a shoestring budget. But isn’t that the charm of it all? The way something so simple, created with love and resourcefulness, turns into something truly special? That’s the kind of magic you just can’t find in an amazon shopping cart.

It had two gold brackets and a 1/2-inch cut glass tabletop. My mom went the extra mile and got me one of those magical lite make up mirrors —you know, the kind with multiple light settings that could switch from “Office” to "Evening" to "Home." She also refinished an old kitchen chair just for me. She removed the back and upholstered the seat in denim blue to match my room. It wasn’t just a chair; it was love in furniture form.

And then there was my dad, who took his job of installing it very seriously. He used Molly bolts and had me sit to show him exactly the height I wanted and then made sure it was perfectly level. He was all business, while I sat there barely containing my excitement. When he was done, I shut my door, and I think my parents probably didn’t see me again for hours—possibly days.

That vanity became my little world, my escape. I’d turn on my record player (yes, I’m aging myself here). Abba, Olivia Newton-John and, more country 45s than you could imagine. The room would fill with music, and hairspray while I’d test eyeliner techniques, blush placement, and that terrifying realm of purple eyeshadow. It wasn’t just makeup—it felt like confidence was washing over me with every stroke of the brush.

That vanity wasn’t just furniture—it was a portal. A gateway to discovering who I was and who I wanted to be. I wish I could tell my 14-year-old self to soak in those moments even more. They were sweeter than I even realized.

Fast forward 46 years—I sit at my only other vanity since that one, but when I look in the mirror, I don’t just see my older reflection. I see her—the girl who danced to America in her room, laughed with friends while getting ready to go out, and found joy in the simple act of putting on lip gloss.

Between then and now, I’ve lived through chapters worth writing about—falling in and out of love, getting married, having a career, raising my kids, holding grandbabies, and I'm still friends with several girls who got ready with me in my childhood bedroom sitting at my old vanity.

This mirror isn’t just a piece of furniture. It’s a portal to those memories, a reminder of love, laughter, and the resilience that has carried me through the years. And honestly? That’s the most precious thing of all.

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I tried to find the glass vanity but it’s never forefront. But if you look closely you will see it. ❤️