Pottery Barn's Secret Spies

So the other day, I got the new PB Catalogue in the mail. I usually glance through it and then send it to my magazine recycling bin, because let's be honest-- their stuff is WAY overpriced. Oh, if only we had Z Gallerie in Albuquerque, my retail-chain needs would be completely met. OK, and maybe Restoration Hardware. And Crate and Barrel. And the Container Store. But I digress. (Ooh, Ikea wouldn't be bad either...)
Anyway, as I perused the Pottery Barn offerings, appalled by the outrageous prices and commenting to my mom all the while that I could get the same thing for a third of the price at a garage sale/flea market/antique store/Target, etc., I found something else to be outraged about-- it's like they snuck into my living room and stole tons of my decorating ideas! Seriously!
Now those who have been to my house and have seen my style are probably thinking, "Um, Rachel, you don't live in Pottery Barn. You live in a kitschy collection of miscellanea." Well, yes, that's true. I'm not saying they didn't de-Rachel-ize it a little bit for the boring nouveau riche and old money on Long Island (let me just mention again my ancestors settled the Hamptons), who prefer the streamlined, clean style of the PB set, but honestly, I couldn't help but see the similarities. A few pages in, I said, "Look Mom. They've got those wrapped bottles like I got Aunt Sylvia for her birthday a few years ago to go with her British-safari stuff." Turn the page. "Ooh, what a nice globe!" I thought, all while being pleased as punch with my own substantial globe collection. Turn the page. Old fashioned typewriters? Not only do I have two of them in my guest room, but also I am proficient using them because I still regularly use one at work (I know, I know, come into the 21st Century, Sego, but there's a definite charm to it). Turn the page. "Hey mom-- those cubbies look like a larger-version of that great drawer you picked up in Monte Vista at Doc's Antiques!" Turn the page. There was a huge metal cog on the wall (not for sale of course) that was the perfect combination of the tin ceiling tile behind my bed, and the new mixed-media self-portrait I'm working on.... I mean, in essence, of course, because I'm not a cog, but there's definitely a steam-punk element to the work. Eerie, right? The framed maps on the wall looked familiar, and wouldn't you know they had all kinds of film canisters on display when I'd just told Sister Pugmire not to throw out the Institute's old projector.
And it's not like I don't hit the Pottery Barn from time to time, but only for their sale items. I bought a wreath there on major clearance back in January, and even though it's supposed to be a Christmas item, I've kept it up all year long because it looks great on my front door, and not Christmas-y at all. But before that? I just don't remember. I already have a nice collection of apothecary jars and cloches. Other than a random clearance pillow sham or two, I just don't get very many things there. As a matter of fact, the last time I was in the Albuquerque store, I said to my aunt, "Oh look! They've hung lanterns made of mason jars on that display-- just like Rowe and I did for Wesley and Jari's wedding." Grrr.
Now I know these catalogues are made well in advance of the consumer seeing them, but honestly-- something's fishy. Get out of my head, Pottery Barn! If you're not careful, you're store will soon look more like Anthropologie. Or World Market. Or, gasp! The flea market.