I appreciate your enduring optimism, I really do. Season after changing season, you make sure that your glorious catalog appears in my mailbox, despite the fact that I haven’t ordered anything from you in years. Yes, years. In fact, if you were to check your records, you would see that my registration on your site is no longer valid. It’s been that long.
Starting a couple of years back, I lusted after the copper risotto pan you advertised. No, lusted isn’t too strong a word. I imagined running my hands over the glistening smoothness of it, and pictured how it would look, hot and simmering on my stove, holding the food of the gods (the gods I worship, anyway). But you want $190 for it, damn you. And I’m just not there yet, at the point in my life when I could justify spending that much on one pan (I may never get there), though it breaks my heart that it is suited so perfectly to cook my very favorite food.
Plus, have you seen the cookware I own right now? That pan would stick out like a stripper in a monastery (forgive me). You have no idea.
(You should also know that I won’t be ordering these, either–though they’re freaking gorgeous. I want them, I do, and I loathe, with a hot burning jealousy, every single person who has ordered them and is using them this very day. So there.)
Don’t give up on me just yet, please. There’s a good chance I will order something eventually. I’m human, and you’re a seductive force. In fact, I’ve got my eye on this. Or maybe a potato peeler. Better to keep you guessing.
Yours (oh yes, I’m yours),
Dear Victoria’s Secret,
We had a good run, didn’t we? All those years when I could look through your catalog and easily spot a dozen things I just had to have. You inspired me, really. Sometimes, even, so much that I would go to the mall (which I hate to do) and linger among the racks of lacy, pretty things and even walk out the door with one of your big, pretty, be-tissued bags, full of new underpinnings. Those were the days, weren’t they?
So maybe it’s out of nostalgia that you still send me coupons for free pairs of panties. Don’t think I’m not grateful, because I am. It’s just that, well, I’ve moved on. It’s not you, it’s me. And these days, there’s more of me than I like to admit, and now you and I just don’t look as good together as we used to. Maybe one day we will again, and I’ll get back to that sweet size I used to be (Or close. I’ll take close), when I would visit you every 3 or 4 months for a whole new supply of pretties. But, for now at least, I buy my lovelies here. Because they also sell underpinnings, but of the 9-pack variety for the under-12 set who now live in my house. And for me, they sell these, which are ridiculously comfortable. And affordable (No offense. None taken, I’m sure), which is oh so important these days when all our money is going toward gas and air conditioning (hello, $320 this month).
You should know that Target, your competition, also sells useful things like paper towels and laundry detergent and batteries and even frozen waffles–so, until you can do all of that for this busy mom, I think you should see other people. I suspect you already are, and it doesn’t hurt my feelings. Not even a little. I get it, and I want you to be happy.
Until we meet again one day (good lord, may it be soon), I shall think of you fondly.
Yours, in nostalgia (my, I have good memories!),
The Mom Jennifer