Saturday, March 03, 2007

Catalogical? ...

Do you ever wonder how you get on certain mailing lists?

I know that everyone sells your name and address to everyone else and much of what darkens my mailbox - all those poor, dead trees - has some sort of reasonable connection to everything else.

And then there are days like today.

Mixed in with my Netflix and cell bill and PAC-We're-Hosting-An-Event-Won't-You-Please-Buy-A-Ticket-For-$1,000? invitation (And how do those people continue to find me? Seriously, I bought a piece of art at an auction when I WAS IN COLLEGE and haven't given them a dime since, yet they continue to send me stuff) was a catalog for delia's.

Oh, sorry: It's dELiA*s.

How precious.

Like, it's the spring break 07 issue!

On dELiA*s web site (no, I'm not linking to it), you can totally enter to win the prom dress of your choice! And in the catalog, there's an ad - yes, an ad, in a catalog - that asks, "Acne? Choose BenzaClin with confidence". (Period outside the quotation marks because BenzaClin didn't punctuate its pronouncement.)

And while every model (or is it the same model?) in the catalog has clearly hit puberty, are these girls (is this girl?) old enough to vote?

The only logical connection between me and this festival of sickening cuteness? Inseam. dELiA*s features some jeans and pants with inseams up to 36 inches. And published sizes range from 00 to 19/20. Double 0? I'll presume that the 00 chicks aren't the ones in need of a 36-inch inseam, because if they are, I think they can wear drinking straws and call it a day.

But perhaps I'd like to consider this fetching number: A hot-pink long T-shirt with some gold teeth and the pronouncement "I'm so gangster."

Now, I'm about as whitey white bread as they come, but I'm pretty sure that when gold teeth are invoked, "gangsta" is more appropriate. I don't think we're talkin' about Don Corleone here. Which also rules out the use of hot pink. Whether your bad ass is on the streets or behind a big walnut desk, you ain't wearin' hot pink. Then again, I'm being sexist. I'm sure there are women out there who like to proudly proclaim their gangster-ishness and feel feminine, too.

But oh my. I just turned the page. And I have to draw the line. It's bad enough that my eyes fell upon a Beatles T-shirt, it's bad enough that every girl in this catalog was probably born 10 years after Lennon was shot, but dELiA*s has blasphemed beyond that that can be forgiven: You do NOT - I repeat, NOT - place the Beatles adjacent to Strawberry Shortcake.


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