Champagne Wishes and Catalog Dreams...

I’m MOVING.

You heard me- I’m moving.  I am giving up this House of Endless Chores and Crap that Breaks and relocating to heaven itself.  I’m moving in to the Garnet Hill catalog.  I was ready to close the deal on a nice page 44-45 festive living room arrangement in the Pottery Barn catalog, but lately I’ve decided that I need more- in fact, I want the whole smash; superfine cashmere, exotic locales, house wares, bed sheets, pillows with owls on them, and these SICK boots on page 77 that just scream Suburban Housewife/Woman with Fierce but Secret Alter Ego.  Plus, I get to be super skinny with awesome hair and wear Diane von Furstenberg wrap dresses with a zippy accessory (like a pith helmet or something) and be so cool that no one will look at me and think “Jeeez, what a jackass.”

I lust after the stuff in this catalog like I can’t even describe… bed sheets with monsters on them (style choice- 9 year old’s room), $48 dollar bath towels (of fine Egyptian cotton that will look awesome even as they start a house fire from the 13 year old leaving them draped over his bedroom lamp), sweaters that my 15 year old will be stoked to steal from me.  The catalogs arrive and I just check out; (insert affected European accent here) “How I long to while away my afternoons in the Essential Voile Dress (p. 88, 138 bucks- note:  NOTHING essential costs $138 unless it’s a car part).  The tag lines on the pages thrill me to no end; “Always on the Go, Always Elegant” and “From Italy, with Love.”  I can’t imagine the kind of money and sheer organizational skill it would take to look that pulled together all the time, BUT I WANT IT (though perhaps not the flats with little flowers on the toes- I succumbed to that fashion statement once, and the only statement I ended up making was TRAGIC MISTAKE).  I want the life that has me waiting eagerly at some picturesque train station (clutching a Boysenberry Easy Leather Tote, p. 100) exuding Boho Chic.

  I can’t think of anyone who lives like this, except for maybe that really hot Russian spy chick that got busted here a few months ago.  In my best estimation, it would require two things:  NO men and Stepford Children.  I’ve cruised this catalog a hundred times and there are never any men in it.  You can tell almost immediately that this is the case when you see the bed sheets promo on page two- NO MEN, because she has ALL THE COVERS! There’s a Boyfriend Fedora on page 63, but NO BOYFRIEND.  Evidently, men make women messy and we can’t have that at the picturesque train station.  Children make a cameo in the middle of the catalog to plug the “Ruffle-licious Savings” of the Ruffle Hem Wool Coat.  They have their own catalog, Garnet Hill Kids, which must have its own picturesque train station, though there are never any parents around so the place must be an insane asylum.  Actually, that’s probably where all the guys are; I bet they’re inside the station watching the game on the overhead television and NOT WATCHING THE KIDS LIKE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO.  I'm going to HAVE to live in that catalog because no one can be Boho Chic with all that nonsense going on...