Six weeks after my accident, I’m beginning to get out a bit, which is a wonderful mental health blessing. So far most of my “outings” have been to the hospital or various doctor’s offices, but my sweet hubby usually “rewards” me after those visits by taking me somewhere for lunch or dinner. But last Thursday, as we were waiting for our friends to arrive at Ruth’s Chris for an early dinner, I noticed LuLuLemon, the yoga clothing store next door. Ooooooh! Wheel me in there? I asked my husband.
I was like a kid in a candy store! So many yummuy fabrics and colors and designs. And yes, I made a purchase—some super comfy Capri-length yoga pants that fit nicely over my cast. I have worn them every day since I got them!
Several pair of fairly new skinny jeans and tunic tops were destroyed in the car wreck on July 7. I decided not to replace the skinny jeans, hoping that by the time I’m out of a cast I might actually be needing a smaller size. But I went ahead and replaced 3 of the tunic tops—all from JJill. Sadly, two other tops were designer numbers I had picked up at Seaside, Florida, last spring. I’m also grieving the loss of my favorite cowboy boots, and will have to see how well my foot heals before I’ll know whether or not I can wear cowboy boots in the future.
So, what does all this have to do with Mental Health Monday? EVERYTHING… for someone who loves to shop but is confined to a wheelchair (and can’t drive) for three months! So, what’s a girl do? Well, even before the accident, I was a huge fan of catalogs. I probably get 6-8 of them in the mail every week. I don’t mind if they sell my name to other venders, because that’s how I discover new sources. Like The J. Peterman Company, who has probably the coolest, most artistic catalog I’ve ever seen. Check out these items in particular, and pay attention to the literary descriptions, which alone are enough to sell me on the items:
Madeline’s Skirt (No. 3989)—Tea Room in Sint-Amandstraat
‘Prose should feel effortless,’ she says with a smile.
I think I get it.
Watching her. Her long hair, the lavender bow, hint of a smile on her red lips. Admiring her skirt, the elegant yet three button front, shapely yet streamlined—it’s just the right combination of formality, sex and adornment.
I think I feel it.
She knows I’m watching her move across the polished hardwood floors, thumbing the pages. (Rumor has it she cut 20,000 words from last year’s Man Booker winner.)
My Moment Dress (No. 3998)—Your Moment
This is what you should wear to usher it in.
Myrna Loy did.
Crowded Hollywood pool party at mogul’s house off Sunset.
1917 Bohemian Earrings (No. 4238)—Ethereal
Authentic vintage materials from around the world. Hand-painted filigree with rhinestones.
Celestial Blouse and Skirt—Your Night in Fiji
Dancing with him on the beach.
Away from the man-made lights. Away from the Shangri-La. Away from the rugby team’s Cibi war dance….
Ocean waves fill your ears. He has you close.
The night sky is alive with celestial lights….
He will say, ‘I never knew you could dance… like that.’
If I was looking for freelance work, I’d love to write for the J. Peterman Company.
Just the right combination of formality, sex and adornment.
Six more weeks until I can drive myself to a bricks and mortar store, walk inside and try on new clothes. But until then, I’m happy here with my catalogs. Or at least the artsy ones. Which are your favorites?
2 thoughts on “Mental Health Monday: The Art of the Catalog (Formality, Sex and Adornment)”
Susan, do you know the Seinfeld episode in which Elaine has a chance encounter with J. Peterman and then goes to work for him? If you haven’t seen it, you must find it–you’ll get a kick out of it!
I’ll look for it, Jennifer:-)
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