Endless, reed-lined beaches. Eclectic, fanciful kitchens. Chaise lounges and soft lighting. Flip through a catalog, and you are the star of these idyllic, aesthetically pleasing worlds. Let’s allow ourselves to fall into the fantasy for a moment, shall we?
James Stegall once wrote a sad paean to the ladies of the Lands’ End catalog, in which he imagines a bucolic yet accomplished life for them all.
These women have long green fields waiting fuzzily in the background. They gaze into the distance; they smile ruminatively downward; they hold confident eye contact with the camera. These are women who aren’t afraid to wear flannel pajamas. They are comfortable in their roles as accomplished, sexy everything-women.
That essay, originally published in 2007, has recently been republished in Nerve, which has us reflecting on the fantasy lives of other catalogs. The healthy, flushed faces of Lands’ End face some serious competitors. A quick flip through flimsy paper, and there are so many other fantasy lives we could be living. Take us away…
Victoria’s Secret: Your apartment is so warm you don’t need clothes, and every surface is upholstered for lounging. Yet in the midst of this comfort, you choose to wear a boned magenta corset that is slightly too small for your heaving bosom. Why? Maybe that man just outside the frame, receiving your vague yet aroused gaze, can tell you. Also, you have no nipples.
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