OK, I admit it, Dear Readers. I suffer from Pottery Catalog-ism! This terrible disorder can strike anyone at anytime. It is characterized by an intense over-interest in the Pottery Barn Catalog for which there is no known cure.
Please rest assured that I do not hold Pottery Barn in any way responsible for my condition. But until a cure is found, the pages of the Pottery Barn Catalog shall be an endless source of interest to me. With this in mind, let’s discuss:
Loose fit slip covers! They’re imported!!
Pottery Barn is offering this “drop cloth loose-fit couch cover” for only $79.00. Nevermind that it took a whole heap of tucking, tugging and twisting as well as wringing, wrestling and wrenching plus a good amount of yanking and yelling (and sometimes even yodeling!) by the entire staff of Pottery Barn professionals made up of 25 designers, 17 craftsmen, 4 jugglers, and a wino who happened to be walking by — to get this thing to look like it’s worth 79 bucks.
Of course, it will look like this the first time somebody sits down on it:
But it doesn’t matter, drop-cloth couch slip covers are still cool! Because why? Why because they’re imported, that’s why! Which automatically makes them better.
PB doesn’t specify where they have imported them from, but this rustic little cottage in the Ukraine countryside looks a tad familiar:
Now, let’s take a closer look at the coffee table shall we?
Pottery Barn is elevating the art of unexpected decor in this Nod-to-Dentistry vignette with its smart smattering of decorative dental instrumentation tastefully arranged in the dish and the re-purposed pickle jar.
And is that a roll of gauze or perhaps a drinking vessel reminiscent of a roll of gauze? This can only mean one of two things: 1) PB customers are spending way too much money on imported, drop-cloth couch covers and re-purposed pickle jars — forcing them to perform their own root canals — or it’s simply Pottery Barn’s salute to gum disease.
Well shut our mouths, Dear Readers! Leave it to Pottery Barn to put the Causal Living in Rinsing and Spitting.
Until next time . . . I love you