Sunday, August 23, 2015

Dear Sundance

Dear Sundance,

First off, let me just say that I'm flattered by all of your recent attention. Three catalogs in ten days?! What have I done to deserve such perseverant care. I daresay, little indeed. Yes, I did place that order during your "Extra 30% Off Sale Items Sale," but alas, that box will be returned next week since neither item fit well, but mostly since I got a recent gander at my bank account.

I will not lie though, your devotion to the chase has not gone unnoticed or unappreciated. Just the other day, as I sat comfortably in the bathroom, I browsed your artfully crafted pages, which strike just the right balance of repeat items from yesterday's catalog, and fresh additions to your collection. And can I just say, Bravo. Truly your publication, and, in fact, your entire existence, plays right into my particular fetish of lifestyle porn. How often have a imagined living in the Northwest in my artfully casual home strewn with your Kathmandu throw and a collection of your Driftwood bowls. Yes, that's it. Just strolling from kitchen to living room, Cambridge boots softly caressing the Desert Stripe Dhurrie Rug, as I flop down in my Azura Kilim chair brushing my tousled chestnut mane from my eyes as I finger my way through tomorrow's catalog. Mmmmmmhmmmmm. I'm not even aware that my L'Art de Vivre skirt and Mesa Sunset shirt accented by my echo belt and Denim's Best Pal earrings will provide a smooth transition from a day of work promoting my latest best selling novel about a plucky heroine who lives in Portland and stumbles onto a mystery to be solved which reveals both her depth of character as well as her modern Hepburn-esque wit to an evening out with friends on their ranch eating by the creekbed off of their Terra dinnerware collection. Oh Yeah! Then home to nestle into my Alpine Meadows bedding warmed by my Guddri Kantha quilt atop my cozy and quaint Empire Iron bed. Yes, Yes, YES!

Yes, that is the orgasmic lifestyle erotica in stark contrast to my current, cluttered and dust filled twin in Northwest Philadelphia decorated with sale sheets from Target and afghans from TJ Maxx.

Oh, Sundance, how you do turn my head with your Redfordian confidence. I fear, however, that your estimation of my worth is misguided as my annual salary amounts to that which Robert Redford makes in 87 seconds of working on a film set; or, roughly the equivalent of ordering five items from your glorious catalog. I am not strong enough, however, to break off this ongoing flirtation. Though we cannot be together now, that is no reason not to hope that "Someday" and it's perpetual promise of all that is satisfying is a lost cause. I am not ready to give up the thrill of opening the mailbox to your resplendence; and I promise that your efforts will not be ignored. It may not be tomorrow, it may not be next week, it may only be when you least expect it, or when you have your annual "40% Off Sale Items Sale," but I will buy those $20 Forever Charmed earrings, and will only bristle playfully at the $9.95 shipping charge.

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