Anthropologie, we need to talk. I think we've been seeing too much of each other. It's not you, it's me. You've been great, really. I remember my very first Anthropologie catalog. I thought, "Who would ever dress like this?" but by the time the second catalog came I began to see the possibilities. Every day, getting dressed would be like putting on a costume. Who could I be? A painter in Paris in 1928? A recent graduate of a buttoned-up secretarial school? A 1950's movie star? A Palm Beach socialite circa 1963?
We've had some good times and I will always remember some of the outfits we created.
The Woman having a nervous breakdown blouse:
The "this is what I wear on my yacht" pants:
The "your ass looks incredibly hot in that skirt" skirt:
The "I'm not afraid of birthdays" blouse:
The Drinking and Driving Dress:
The Slouching Through Rome clogs:
The "This is what you wear to an elementary school graduation, motherfuckers" dress:
The "Getting the side eye from the other ladies at the barbecue" dress:
The Bicycle Dress. My god, the Bicycle dress!
I've been seeing a lot of J. Crew lately. It's where I bought my job interview suit, my dozens of identical navy blue and black tee shirts, my chinos, my cardigan for over-airconditioned summer restaurants. J. Crew clothes may lack imagination, but they'll never have the other ladies thinking, "who does she think she is?"
Anthropologie, I hope we can be friends. I'd like to visit you from time to time, like if I'm every invited to a garden party.