In the four years we've been married, I've been using my mom's old dishes. She buys dishes in sets of twelve or sixteen, and then when too many break, she gives them away or stores them in the basement.
So when I was a poor newlywed, I grabbed a box of old dishes and I've been using them ever since. They've served us well, but a few have broken and chipped here and there. As we were living on a limited income when Mr. Mordecai was still in college, I grabbed a few replacements from thrift stores, and here I am four years later, with a mismatching set of dishes to rival the best of them.
Or, at least, that was the case until Christmas. I am now the proud owner of a set of matching dishes: service for twelve. Eight place settings will live in the cupboard, and four more will live in the closet until called upon by breakage.
Thank you, Mr. Mordecai. You know me well enough to know that I wouldn't have bought a new set myself until I'd broken a few more plates, no matter how much I wanted one.