Yesterday, Amelia and I were discussing a random post idea, and Frederick’s of Hollywood came up. At that moment I remembered how much I enjoyed reading that catalog when I was younger. Yes, I read every product description in Frederick’s of Hollywood from cover to cover when I was only about 9 or 10. I even had my favorite model, one of the few, if the only black woman to grace the pages. I have no idea why my mom was on the mailing list. I don’t think she ever bought anything. It wasn’t a secret that I had a thing for Frederick’s of Hollywood, but I’m surprised my mom never told me to stop. I became even more fascinated with the catalog after my aunt told me Frederick’s of Hollywood was where hookers shopped. For some reason, lucite platforms, elephant trunk thongs for men, and ridiculous wigs intrigued me. But, then again, I was the kid who thought looking tacky was a good thing.
Tell us: What strange stuff did you do as a kid? Keep reading »
I am a complete catalog whore. I love the styling of the clothes in the J.Crew catalog, the ramshackle, shabby chic-ness of the Anthropologie catalog, and the total randomness of some of the furniture placements in the CB2 and West Elm catalogs. Someone has taken that obsession a step further and has imagined the lives led by the imaginary people in home catalogs. On the hilarious new blog Catalog Living, comedian/actor/writer Molly Erdman has cast “Gary” and “Elaine” as the two main — but unseen — characters in the absurd life situations implied by home catalog photographs. For example, the caption for the photo above:
Elaine was not amused by Gary’s passive-aggressive response to her request to “garnish the cocktails.”
Check out more dry-witted captions for catalog scenes, after the jump … Keep reading »
Anthropologie’s August catalog is out, and instead of the whimsical models they usually include, the company photographed “real people” wearing their clothes. Everyone and their mother is into street style photography these days, with Scott “The Sartorialist” Schuman even snapping the latest ad campaign for DKNY Jeans. It is nice to see different body types wearing the clothes that are for sale, but are they real people or simply models who have more realistic proportions? We took to Google and searched a few of the names listed in the catalog to find out. Keep reading »
And how many of them do you actually want? Yesterday, I received six catalogs for quite possibly some of the most obscure clothing companies out there. The only one I was happy to keep was the Barneys one (which I had actually signed up for). As for Casual Living, Ulla Popken (I have no idea what that means), and Gump’s San Francisco, these would be great if I was in the market for some embroidered crepe dresses, elastic-waistband cropped pants, or dragonfly pillows.
Cut down on your paper waste with CatalogChoice.org, a free service that lets you unsubscribe from your unwanted junk mail in one go and communicate your preferences to merchants, so you actually get what you want. Sponsored by the Ecology Center and endorsed by the National Wildlife Foundation, Catalog Choice is a great way to make your Earth Day contribution without even leaving your desk.
And if you’re seriously set on keeping that Newport News catalog, we’re not judging. [Catalog Choice] Keep reading »
Some catalogs are worth their weight in paper, others are a waste. I get an average of two L.L. Bean catalogs a month, and while I adore them and the fact that they sell plaid duct tape (amazing, right?!), I really don’t need to see the same sweaters, duck boots, and alarm clocks multiple times each month. Just think of those poor trees that were cut down to make all those L.L. Bean catalogs! So, I am going to call up my favorite purveyor of monogrammed tote bags and tell them to stop sending me glossy books every month. You should do the same — or go to Catalog Choice and communicate with companies about what catalogs you no longer wish to receive.
See all the ways to make the most of the last 31 days of 2008 here. Keep reading »
I don’t get much mail, except for the occasional postcard from my mom and the handful of magazines I subscribe to. For the most part, this pleases me because I’m not wasting as much paper as I would if I received L.L. Bean catalogs every week. However, amidst crap catalogs like Just For Redheads, there are gems that so beautiful, you’ll want to live in them.
Even the catalog from French import A.P.C. exudes the easy style you’d assume all Parisians possess. The latest, which appeared in my mailbox a couple weeks ago, comes covered in army green cloth. Keep reading »