Catalogues and their "style stories" are a great escape. It's lovely to grab an Uncommon Goods, Anthropologie, or even an LL Bean, catalogue and enjoy a window to a calm, beautiful and exciting whitewashed world. You can sit down for a minute among the urine soaked carpets and piles of empty Ephedrine bottles in your fifth floor walk up and have a moment of peace and quiet, basking in the way life should be.
this redeems her. But how did she afford it working part time as a barista and going out EVERY night? What else is she selling besides coffee?
jacket out in the snow, walking slowly through the park enjoying his day. He is supposed to be picking up his kids from school three miles away. His wife usually does it but she has a dermatology appointment today to get that mole on her back checked out. The teacher who is running pick up is going to have to stay 45 minutes late and miss her spinning class. His kids are going to loose faith in him and get abandonment issues. His wife is going to be furious with him and this is the incident that leads her down the path of loosing respect for him completely. They end up having a bitter divorce in four years and everyone involved is screwed up forever.
So when you're sitting under flourescent lights in the emergency room waiting for them to reattach your left index finger after the table saw accident at work and you find yourself wishing for a catalogue life just remember, it isn't all it's cracked up to be.