Dearest Anthropologie,
You are a long-time,
trusted friend...one who has proven to be there for me time and time
again throughout each stage in life.
Our relationship began back in 1998 when I was on the market for a new blazer to wear to my college internship interview. Of course you came through for me. And as I saved money earned from that first job (landed in part, I'm sure, to my stylish jacket), I peppered my apartment with unique home goods I found in the pages of your catalog.
When my family expanded, you did too, opening brick and mortar stores in Chicago where you displayed a lovely dress for my bridal shower, detailed dog sweaters for my dear wire fox terrier Skone, unique shirts I could disguise as maternity clothing, and baby hats and sweaters for my children during the holiday seasons.
Oh, Anthro (can I call you Anthro?), how do I describe the joy I felt when it was announced you were opening a store in Milwaukee only 20 miles from my house? Do I tell you about the countless times this homeschooling mama of three has hidden away from home and roamed aimlessly around the store taking in it's color palette and prints or about the cherished memories and artwork created by my children during your in-store crafting events and now displayed in my home?
Where do I even begin...and will it ever end? No, I'm confident our relationship will forever continue. For just this week I received news that my aging eyes required reading glasses, and without skipping a beat you offered me multiple stylish designs to choose from...and some colorful hair ties at checkout to pull back my long graying hair.
Our relationship began back in 1998 when I was on the market for a new blazer to wear to my college internship interview. Of course you came through for me. And as I saved money earned from that first job (landed in part, I'm sure, to my stylish jacket), I peppered my apartment with unique home goods I found in the pages of your catalog.
When my family expanded, you did too, opening brick and mortar stores in Chicago where you displayed a lovely dress for my bridal shower, detailed dog sweaters for my dear wire fox terrier Skone, unique shirts I could disguise as maternity clothing, and baby hats and sweaters for my children during the holiday seasons.
Oh, Anthro (can I call you Anthro?), how do I describe the joy I felt when it was announced you were opening a store in Milwaukee only 20 miles from my house? Do I tell you about the countless times this homeschooling mama of three has hidden away from home and roamed aimlessly around the store taking in it's color palette and prints or about the cherished memories and artwork created by my children during your in-store crafting events and now displayed in my home?
Where do I even begin...and will it ever end? No, I'm confident our relationship will forever continue. For just this week I received news that my aging eyes required reading glasses, and without skipping a beat you offered me multiple stylish designs to choose from...and some colorful hair ties at checkout to pull back my long graying hair.
We are not only friends, Anthro, but family...and our tree is sprouting new branches as the years go by. My daughter Martha is grafting
her own relationship with you. This past November she was filled with
pride when she
recognized your name on the Rockefeller Center store when we visited a
friend in New York City. She settle in on the bustling sidewalk, mesmerized, as the designers created your
holiday window displays, insisting the whole while that I take detailed photographs so she could
attempt to replicate the geodes and yarn designs when we returned home. Yes, our family tree is a healthy one.
We have an excellent track record, you and I. We are celebrating our 16th anniversary this year, and to date, we've only ever had one argument. You know the one. It involved a $6,500 Stand Up Paddleboard out of my financial reach that was stylish enough to ruin the excitement of any other board I would discover after. And so, board-free I remain, despite living in an ideal SUP location nestled between Lake Michigan and Cedar Creek. But it's OK, I'm sure over time I will find a way to forgive you.
Thank you, Anthropologie, for walking alongside me through this adventure called life. I know the warmth I feel when I add a vintage Anthro sweater to my outfit is your loving arms wrapped around me. A stylish and trusted friend can make even the darkest days a bit brighter...and the glow of your website on my computer screen has always remained one click away, never failing me. And for that I am forever grateful.
We have an excellent track record, you and I. We are celebrating our 16th anniversary this year, and to date, we've only ever had one argument. You know the one. It involved a $6,500 Stand Up Paddleboard out of my financial reach that was stylish enough to ruin the excitement of any other board I would discover after. And so, board-free I remain, despite living in an ideal SUP location nestled between Lake Michigan and Cedar Creek. But it's OK, I'm sure over time I will find a way to forgive you.
Thank you, Anthropologie, for walking alongside me through this adventure called life. I know the warmth I feel when I add a vintage Anthro sweater to my outfit is your loving arms wrapped around me. A stylish and trusted friend can make even the darkest days a bit brighter...and the glow of your website on my computer screen has always remained one click away, never failing me. And for that I am forever grateful.
Forever yours,
Shannon
Shannon
PS
- If you want to settle our squabble once and for all, say the word and
I'll forward you my address (FYI: the Kai Ko'o is my favorite board
design).
No comments:
Post a Comment