I recently “unsubbed” to the multifarious apparel companies who had contrived to get into my email inbox. Adios, J. Jill. Adieu, LL Bean. Auf Wiedersehen to Land’s End. Ciao, Bloomingdale’s. Arrivederci, Macy’s. Most of all, an enormous Valete to all of those luxury bags and scarves mailings. But I was not emotionally equipped for the actual physical presence of a catalogue. Many hawkers of clothing have abandoned the traditional catalogue. My response to these catalogues is like a child at Hallowe’en. I want to consume them all. I may be a stern critic of advertising and its emotional grip on people intellecutally–but emotionally these catalogues are like poetry. And art. Sort of like my own interior Louvre. And for someone who has been starved by the diminishment of the effluvia of catalogues in the mail, any new thing will do. So I had a heroic struggle with a Land’s End catalogue. I was sucked into the visually alluring pictures of little Mary Jane T-Strap shoes in 50 colors, mostly neon. If I only have 38 tee-shirts, I must be in need of several more. What if the washing machine breaks down and all the laundromats in thw world disappear and I run out of clothes? Shouldn’t I stock up on easy, casual, Land’s End wear? It was a Herculeon battle, but I thought of my GAAD and the catalogue found its way into the Recycling box where its clarion cries will be in vain.
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I hear you. My suggestion is to go to http://www.catalogchoice.org/ and get off all the paper mailing lists. It really does help.
You inspired me to unsubscribe to all the emails in my inbox tempting me to buy (more) from them. What a great idea, thanks!