I have bought a handful of items over the past ten years from Pottery Barn, meaning I am on their ten catalogs a month mailing list for life, it seems. Last week I received one from The Land of Nod. I had never heard of this place, and I’m still trying to figure out how a kids and babies catalog ended up at my house. Did I send out some secret pregnant transmission to the catalog gods? They obviously do not know me or my shopping tendencies if they think that I am in their target market. Come over to my house and sit in the pink velvet rocking chair, and then decide if I might shop from your catalog. Then again, maybe Pottery Barn is trying to send me a message. Hmm.
Since you can never have a lack of good reading material (or so-so reading material) in the bathroom (I will not mention how often I find myself using Twitterific on the toilet, ahem), I took it for a test drive one day. All of the various catalogs end up in the bathroom. I rarely look through one thoroughly anymore, even my beloved J. Crew, because looking at all of the awesome clothes that not only can I not afford but wouldn’t cover a fifth of my ass right now is rather depressing. And looking at the goofy 85 lb. models pouting at me in stupid poses makes me just want to throw a cupcake at them. Or eat one or two.
This LoN catalog had all of these fancy kids toys, overstuffed bean bag chairs with cute names like Chloe and Allistair Twinkletoes McGovern stitched into the sides, and furniture. Furniture, mind you, that costs more than my entire net worth (granted, this is not very much but who’s spending THAT much money for a place to change shitty diapers?). I kept turning the pages, mostly because I’m starting to think about all of this kind of stuff I’ll have to make sure I have for this baby. And I’m thinking, America, is THIS where you’re seriously buying shit for your kids? Because if it is, my kids are going to be the most materialistically deprived kids on the block.
The catalog is still in the bathroom, not because I plan on purchasing anything from it, but for the comedic value. Fortunately, I found out this week that a bunch of large furniture items I was worried about have been taken care of. Thank God for cousins who hang on to their baby gear.
I haven’t bought anything baby-related yet, mostly because I’m broke but also because I have no idea where to start. Do people really start hoarding diapers months in advance? My family’s planning a small shower for me when I get down to Detroit in a few months, so I’m hesitant to pick up anything I might receive then (fingers crossed). I’ve gotten some good, solicited advice on brands and specific items from my cousins who have recently had children (and who are pregnant right now), but I’m feeling mostly ill-equipped.
Since there is not a lot of extra cash to throw around at anything these days, I don’t want to waste any purchase. So, I’m not buying anything right now. And really, what does the kid do in the early stages of life except for eat, poop, and sleep?
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They have a store or two here. Haven’t gone in, but they look scary from the street. It’s the type of place where ex-85-pound models by crap for their children. It’s completely pretentious.
That is about all they do, and don’t buy anything until everyone you know has given you everything they intend to, new and hand-me-down. Chances are you will be 99% done at that point.