I think my love affair with Anthropologie has officially ended. If it hasn’t ended, it’s on a long hiatus.
Anthropologie left a bad taste in my mouth after I read this post by Maya over at KinzieSays. It’s like a light bulb went off in my head. Why was I singing the praises of a company that couldn’t be bothered to put one model of color (oh, sorry there is one pouty Asian model up there) on their sister wedding website, BHLDN? That’s bunk.
After Maya’s post, I kinda avoided Anthro all together. I needed a breather. The pretty details I had obsessed over all these years had turned into nothing more than a blurred haze of overpriced shabby chic vomit.
One question turned into many. Why do I need a ballooning tank top with a ruffle on the collar for $90 anyway? Why was I so fucking giddy over a $2,000 chair the size of doll furniture I couldn’t afford? What has Anthropologie ever done for me?
They won’t even explain the purpose of that ridiculous yellow membership card I swipe every time I pay for something. I’ve yet to see a discount come from the fruits of my wallet’s labor. Bah.
Ultimately, this means very little adjustment in my life, but for blogging purposes I thought I’d discuss it a bit more in-depth. I may still take an occasional stroll through my local store, or flip through a catalog, but I no longer view their merchandise through rose-colored glasses. I’m over it.
I’m actually pretty unaware of the history of most of the retail stores I frequent. I don’t make it a habit of researching that kind of stuff. Maybe I should?
Do you think about the companies you patronize regularly? Did you ever learn of something that made you think twice or caused you to stop shopping there?