Catalog curator: Crate and Barrel, Eddie Bauer

I’ve got a weakness for plaid, and Crate and Barrel’s Nomad Storage Cube ($299) is speaking to me, even though I can’t certify it as 100% cute. Maybe in the right context? For a few more options (and great deals), skip the grown-up stuff in C&B’s print catalog and go straight to the website. I can vouch for the adorability of the Gus Glasses—now just $0.95 apiece—as earlier this year I bought a set of 12 in the highball size after I got fed up with our dwindling set of mismatched vintage glasses. They even feel cute in the hand:

From the Outlet, I like these Appetizer Plates ($1.50 each), which could also serve as trays to corral keys and cell phone or small desktop items:
And I’m sure the Lacey Felt Placemat ($2.95) could be used in any number of creative ways (I just can’t think of any right now):


Not on sale but cute all the same are the Etch Sheet Sets; I’d buy just the pillowcases ($24.95 for a standard set) and use with plain white sheets:


Next up: Eddie Bauer. Usually, gray, wet days beg for fun prints and cute, cheery accessories (see my post about the Cupcake Land boots I got for my daughter), but EB wisely keeps its rain gear understated, so you can use it even when you don't feel like standing out from the crowd. The dog print on the Mini Travel Umbrella ($16.50) is suitable for most any man, woman, or child:


and I like it in the black/red combo on the Tall Rubber Rain Boots ($49.50), too:
But if you’re like me, you really only need heavy-duty boots when the basement floods. For everyday wear, I have to go with EB’s pièce de résistance, these low Rubber Rain Boots ($39.50) that somehow manage to conjure old-fashioned galoshes and old-school sneakers:

My perfect grocery store

While shopping last week I was struck, for about the millionth time, by just how long it takes to find any single item at the grocery store, even when you always buy the same brand and size. This is by no means a new or original observation, but still, as they say, it's true. Then, as often happens, a few days later I saw an article in the New York Times that took my fleeting thought and fleshed it out into a relevant, interesting story:

Miles of Aisles for Milk? Not Here
New York Times, September 9, 2008

HARMAR TOWNSHIP, Pa. — Like cars and homes, grocery stores are beginning to shrink.

After years of building bigger stores — many larger than a football field and carrying 60,000 items — retailers are experimenting with radically smaller grocery stores that emphasize prepared meals, fresh produce and grab-and-go drinks.

The idea is to lure time-starved shoppers who want to pick up a few items or a fast meal without wandering long grocery aisles or paying restaurant prices. Read full article

I have long dreamed of having my very own scaled-back store, a place that carries just one choice for every essential item. I guess this is my winning-the-lottery fantasy: A well-lit, beautiful storefront—a blend of fancy boutique, old-fashioned general store, and pantry of eccentric billionaire recluse—located within walking distance of my house. It would stock either the best (that is, my favorite) or the cutest of every type of item I typically buy at the grocery store, plus the occasional great new thing I might like to try. Others would be welcome to shop there, too, but I think I would be the only one authorized to use the drive-thru.

Random office cute

One of these days I'll have to find another good word for "cute" to use in my post titles, but I refuse to worry about it on this particular Friday. Like many of you, I've been enamored with office supplies—cute and plain—since I was a kid. And although I've had several decades to shop for notepads, staplers, and desk accessories, I still feel like I'm searching for that elusive perfect scented-eraser-and-pencil set that will make my life complete. I'm sure this Miki House pencil case ($15) would have delighted me just as much 30 years ago as it does today. I think it's the back view, with the jauntily tied scarves, that sold me:

Catalog cute, revisited

So I gave up trying to cancel all my catalogs. Perhaps one day I’ll give it another go. But no matter whether it’s J. Crew, Uline, or the Oriental Trading Company, I just can’t help but look through every page of every catalog that comes through our mail slot and compulsively turn down the corners of pages with stuff that catches my eye, for whatever reason. To hell with the design editors who promise a happier, simpler life if only you would put those unwanted catalogs—and all your other junk mail—directly into a recycle bin by your front door (“Might we suggest a $98 Hable Construction storage box that perfectly coordinates—but not so much that it looks matchy—with the rest of your 8' x 10' entryway?”).

With this realization, then, I bring you a new regular feature: Catalog cute. I would try to articulate my criteria for what is cute, but it’s more difficult than one might think. So much of what people call “cute” just isn’t. What I’m looking for is more than baby animals or appealing and cheery patterns; it has to have that certain je ne sais cute, that special combination of zing and purity that gives me a feeling similar to a completed row of Tetris blocks, disappearing with a quick poof! Brief, fleeting happiness—perhaps not true genius or beauty, but a more human and democratic pleasure. Or something.

First off, then, comes a challenge: Country Curtains. I think I actually solicited this catalog when I was looking for a roller shade to go under our bedroom curtains. I wanted a step up from the cheap polyester kind, but I needed something with a simple mechanism that wouldn’t take up a lot of space and that came in a width to fit our window. Looking around online, this Textured Woven Shade in Natural ($38–$99) seemed to fit the bill, so I sent away for a sample. It really is quite appealing in person, although I never got around to buying one—we rarely open the bedroom curtains, so the cheapy shade that came with the house is just fine. (Plus it’s free.) But I like that I can imagine this shade in both a modern setting as well as a tidy grandma’s sky-blue condo bedroom.

Clockwise, from top left: Pining for You Hooked Pillow, $69; Alice Wool Hooked Rug, $129; Cable Knit Throw, $59; Red Wire Basket, $14; Flea Market Granny Square Throw, $139.

As for the rest of the catalog, well, the curtains mostly seem to be designed for someone else’s house. But the website offers some decently cute home “accents,” including a couple of the hooked-wool variety, which always get me. I love the nostalgia of the “I'm Pining for You” pillow, and the Alice hooked rug’s simple, pretty design and timeless color combo would add a homey touch to a too-modern bedroom or entryway. The granny-square throw isn't bad, although I'm still partial to Garnet Hill's more sophisticated (and, at $328, way more expensive) Haverhill Afghan Throw.

Catalogs photo from Enviromedia.com

Timeless cute: Painted clogs

Haven’t painted clogs (like these for $128 at Anthropologie) been an almost-trend for more than a decade? I know I’ve been trying to figure it out for at least that long.

In the last ten years, I’ve gone through several clog phases: There were a couple weeks about eight years ago when I really really really wanted clogs with skis painted on them. (I finally ordered some and discovered they were ugly, so sent them back.) Then I dabbled with white woven Bastad clogs that my then-boyfriend/now-husband thought were iffy, stylewise, but that he changed his tune about after a stylish girl on the streets of Williamsburg asked me about them.

At some point I won a pair of Gretel’s clogs—similar to the green-and-yellow ones below—on eBay, but they were too big, even with thick socks. Eventually, I got practical and went the Dansko route for a while.

Finally, I bought some red painted Olsson clogs from Delia’s for about $45 four or five years ago, and that seemed to take care of the itch for me. While I still like and wear them (and always get compliments), somehow I lost the desire for more. Now I can look at the $128 Anthropologie option and know that this trend, too, shall pass.

But maybe you haven’t found your pair yet. If not, check out some of these cheaper alternatives. (I do love Anthro, but you've got to admit their “boutique” prices are annoying.)

Clockwise, from top left: Tessa Clogs Blue Klara, $89; Granna's Pink Painted Clog, $64.80; Gretel's Clogs, Size 37, $36.99 BIN on eBay; Montana Clogs Navy Forget-Me-Not, $110; Dalahorse Clog, $45; Dala Red Painted Clog, $110; Dala Turquoise Anna, $99.

So much cute, so little time

So sorry for the unplanned hiatus! I'll spare you the drawn-out excuses and just say 1) I have a two-year-old, 2) I work from home, and 3) I have, at best, an average motivation level.

Anyway, there's always a backlog of cute things out there, and I'm pleased to have recently acquired two of them for my daughter—both on sale for about $15 each, which only enhances their cute power. I'm so happy to have a child who—right now anyway—will wear whatever I choose. I love everything about these Chooka Cupcake Land Rain Boots, and although I'm not sure where this Cupcake Land is (somewhere out west, I'm guessing—New Mexico or Nevada?), it sounds like a great destination for a family vacation.



Then there's this Forest Print Jacket from Crazy 8. Patterns are sometimes hard to match, but this is muted enough that it almost works as a neutral. I'm afraid that I don't know my forest animals well enough to say whether that's a chipmunk or a skunk, but he's pretty great either way, right?

Resolution: Finish catalog cleanup

Not exactly "cute," but amazing in their own way: Footlights from Herrington. Here's the catalog description:

Weight sensors activate the LEDs in each slipper as you stand up; built-in timer delays shutoff until you’re safely back in bed. LEDs aim slightly upward for optimum illumination of obstacles. It’s like seeing in the dark—without wearing scary NightVision goggles!

What more is there to say?


Then we have Company Kids: kid stuff that's very similar to kid stuff in other kid catalogs, but in a color palette (especially for "girl" items) that's just not up to snuff. I'm not sure if the Gingham Porcelain Tea Set is truly cute, but the Dog Parka—primarily the one in olive/burnt orange—definitely is.

I have elected not to cancel catalogs from Land of Nod or CB2, both of which usually meet their cute quota in each issue. But I'm torn about Garnet Hill: I like many things they sell, but the fact that we get a catalog almost every week almost cancels it out.

Whenever I want to look at new sheets or towels (or a rug, like the Fair Isle Hooked Wool Rug that we bought last year in 7' oatmeal heather), I'll just go to their website.