Get friendly with glitter. Over and over (and over) again.

by Andrea Mulder-Slater

Every once in a while, I lose my mind.

And then, I buy glitter.

I never know what will trigger the purchase. Sometimes it’s hearing a Depeche Mode song at the grocery store while I’m picking up string cheese. Other times it’s the absence of coffee cream in my refrigerator. Mostly, it’s nostalgia - or amnesia - brought on by lack of sleep. And Pinterest.

The thing about glitter is this: it’s amazing. Really freaking amazing.

It looks so tempting, sitting on the shelf wedged between the fun foam and fusible beads. I mean let's face it... it’s the darling of the dollar store. All the other craft supplies - even the googly eyes - want to be it, or be near it because, GLITTER.

Whether it’s gold or silver or red or blue or green, glitter is what makes that little voice inside my head start whispering the words, “c'mon, let's get messy"

Yes, it’s dark and it’s disturbing, but whenever I see glitter, I want to take it home and craft the hell out of it.

And so do you.

Don’t deny it. I know you’ve been there.

So you go to the store and you buy glitter. All the glitter. Because let’s face it, three bottles only cost $1.00, and even though somewhere in the deep recesses of your memory you have a faint recollection of a horrifying glitter explosion, you don’t remember it being all that bad. Sure you found tiny bits of shiny metal in your salad dressing, your bra, and in between your toddler’s toes for months after the fact, but to be fair, you hadn’t prepared your work space properly.

This time, things will be different because this time you will plan ahead. You will put out a bowl of warm soapy water and you will keep the vacuum nearby. In fact, you will do whatever it takes to make this happen.

You arrive home with your purchase sitting next to you on the front seat. You know full well that the path you are on is sketchy and it’s wrong but dammit you’ve haven’t felt this alive since you blasted a hairdryer across all of your kid’s crayons in an effort to make a melted wax masterpiece that would have turned out perfectly if only you had used an industrial heat gun.

And so, you run into your house - giddy with anticipation - as you reveal the details of your plan to your family members.

It’s not your fault. It’s your cerebrum - where glitter memories go to die - the neuron-packed part of your brain which controls reasoning, and harbours improper thoughts like: Yes, you can pull off that crop top with boyfriend jeans look, and of course you should quit your day job and start a hemp cloth tote bag business on Etsy because you are a Girl Boss.

When it comes time to craft, it’s very possible you might forget what to do, what with being completely and totally dazzle-drunk. So to help you through, I’ve prepared a brief How to Work with Glitter tutorial that will apply regardless of which unsuspecting item you choose to make fabulous.

Step 1) Grab the glue as you begin to regret telling your child about your glitter plan.

Step 2) Repeat the words, “not yet, not yet, not yet,” as your 6 year-old incessantly asks if she can open ALL the glitter jars RIGHT NOW.

Step 3) Begin to question your own sanity.

Step 4) Hastily throw a paper plate down on your kitchen counter. Refer to Step 3.

Step 5) Realize there is no turning back.

Step 6) Encourage your kid to cover something - anything - with glue. No paper? No problem. Grab a rock.

Step 7) Open the glitter jars and take a deep breath. On second thought, don’t. Because, lungs.

Step 8) Watch as your child begins to sprinkle glitter all over the glue. Pray to the baby Jesus.

Step 9) Abandon all worries because you are having some freaky fun and if feeling this way is wrong, you don't want to be right.

Step 10) When you begin to come out of your glitter-induced haze, look around for the non-existent warm soapy water and vacuum. Curse the air and your forgetful mind. Then, rush your entire family outside before you set the house on fire because this is the ONLY way to clean up glitter.

Trust me, I'm an artist. Plus, the fire will be beautiful.

No, really.