Why I Want to Live in the Sundance Catalog

Posted on July 29, 2010


dressing for a unique weather pattern

Life in the Boomer Lane’s Sundance catalog arrived today.  She is always so excited to see it, and it’s not because she wants to buy everything in it.  It’s because she wants to live in the catalog.  There are some really good reasons for this and even better reasons why this wouldn’t be such a good idea.

We’ll start with Robert Redford, the founder of anything that has the word “sundance” in it.  He purchased this word from a group of Native Americans, using all the money he made from Hollywood.  Each Sundance catalog starts with a photo and greeting from Robert.  LBL wants Robert to greet her at the start of each season and tell her why she should be really excited about that particular season.  She’ll agree.  She’ll agree to anything he tells me.

LBL wants to wear flimsy, flow-y, virtually see-through dresses in summer, accompanied by rugged, distressed, looking-like-they-were-just-finished-rounding-up-the-horses Cowboy boots.  In reality, this might be a bad idea, since she is 63 years old, live in a city, and sell real estate.  The women in the Sundance catalog don’t have these problems.  And whatever kind of weather patterns are in the Sundance catalog, result in very warm air from the knees up and cool air from the knees down.

LBL wants to wear jewelry made from leather or suede strips and rocks.  She wants this jewelry to have names like “earth and sea” and “mountain spirits” and “creativity.”  She want words etched onto the jewelry like “faith’ and “aura” and “love heals.”  This jewelry will cost about 1,000 times more than the actual materials cost, but it will be worth it because it comes from artisans who live in another dimension and get their inspiration from mountain spirits and extinct species.

LBL wants to store her ridiculously chic items in a cupboard constructed entirely of old chicken coops.  She will pay $2695 for this cupboard ($375 for shipping) and possibly more, if she can be assured that there will still be a few feathers stuck to the chicken wire.

LBL wants to sleep in a recycled pickle barrel bed.  This will be a homage to her grandfather who made the best pickled tomatoes on the planet, and earned the exact same amount per year that this bed costs ($2000).  Hopefully, the bed will not smell like her grandfather did when he was pickling the tomatoes.

LBL wants to eat all of her meals at a big old distressed pine farm table, constructed entirely of other big old distressed pine farm tables.  She wants whatever kitchen or dining room exists in the Sundance catalog, so that the table will fit.  Her house has a small kitchen and a medium size dining room.  She could get rid of all the furniture in her family room, and then she could use the table.  But she still wouldn’t be able to look out the window to see mountains and buffalo and horses, as well as Robert Redford, either climbing them, riding them, or chasing them.

LBL has dog-eared the pages that speak to her.  She’ll pull the catalog out every now and then and fantasize.  She probably won’t actually order anything. But she’ll dream.  And then the next catalog will arrive…