My linen closet is basically a museum of towel history. A true hodgepodge. I still have towels from college — 1988, thank you very much — and not a single one of them matches anything else on the shelf. It’s like a reunion of every towel I’ve ever owned, all jammed together, still clinging to life out of sheer nostalgia and stubbornness.

And here’s the funny part: I love the idea of matching sets. Bath towel, hand towel, washcloth — the whole coordinated, Pinterest-worthy ensemble. But let’s be honest… we don’t use hand towels or washcloths. Like, ever. They hang there looking pretty and untouched, collecting dust while the bath towels do all the heavy lifting.