I really do love a dressing table/vanity in my boudoir. Not only do I think it looks charming, but it makes getting ready more of a sacred ritual. Ever since my vanity was destroyed from being broken twice during moves (once by my dad and once by my husband…if they’re reading this, they should still feel guilty because I actually shed tears over it), I feel like part of my womanhood is missing (is this possible?). I loved my vanity. My mother bought it for me at an antique store when I was a teenager. It was like I was sitting upon a throne when I was sitting there putting…