I do not know how I got on your mailing list. I mean to say, I didn’t personally request a catalog–I am sure that you got my name from other catalog shopping I do. Not that it’s any big secret that I am, demographically, a prospective customer.
However, I want to assure you that I am NOT in fact a good prospect.
Here’s why.
First of all, every airy setup you show presumes we all have white beadboard/wainscoting (or whatever that whore M. Stewart would have me call it) on all four fucking walls, everything painted white including the floor (underneath that sisal matting, that is). I’ve got news for you: I don’t live in Nantucket. Check the zip code.
Second, my optical cones and rods are still functioning fine, as are my kid’s. That’s right, I can see colors. I actually like colors. I think they enhance decor. I think they are especially important in a child’s room. Apparently we disagree here, you and I. I’ve never seen so much washed out, heathered, pale, pasteled, bleached-out shit assembled in one place before. If I subjected my child to this much blandness, I give him 36 hours before he goes completely screaming-meemie nutso and takes a knife to the family pet right on his bedspread in a desperate attempt to add color and visual stimulation to his living environment. No, we like Fluffy & Fido. I would not take the chance.
Third: college fund. That’s right. If I had a spare $5,000 lying around, it’d be going to the college fund. Not for some ensemble that includes a child-sized distressed-leather rocking chair, coordinating curtains that look for all the world like the ticking used to cover prison matresses, and a matching hand-hooked rug in light pea green and palest canteloupe. If our college fund was flush, I think I’d give the money to The Flat Earth Society more willingly than reward your buyers for their taste.
Fourth: The butterflies. The butterflies. The infernal limpid, cotton, pale-yellow and pale-green appliqued butterflies. The butterfly-themed crib bedding has been in your catalog for three fucking seasons now. Enough with the butterflies. While it would be impossible to fully justify the prices of your merchandise, offering something NEW for a change might go a ways toward fooling more of us that you’re cutting edge or even innovative.
How many more catalogs will you send before you give up on me? Counting the days!