Wednesday, October 22, 2008

To Covet - 1 : to wish for earnestly

Corey and I went to the mall a few weekends ago to have dinner with friends. At the time we were on a spending freeze - the perfect excuse not to buy crap I don't need. I'm beginning to feel unpatriotic - I missed the playoffs, and planned to walk the sainted halls without spending. The earnest wishing began when we went into Anthropologie. I have a love-hate relationship with Anthropologie. It's like vintage stuff but it's new, it's like a thrift store but it's expensive, it's like handmade but it's made in China. I don't think I had ever even bought anything there, although there was a moment with a dishtowel that had rickrack on it. $18. I still remember the price. That was for ONE dishtowel. I decided just to sew rickrack on a Target dishtowel, but as with most of my craft projects, it never came to fruition.

Anyway, I went back to this antiquey cupboard like they have, which was filled with shelves of stationary and journals, and that was when I saw "THE journal that I had to possess" (as it was already somehow a part of me). I currently have a super Wonder Woman journal that I got in Flagstaff over 6 years ago. The fun of it is that it has illustrations and captions on almost every page. In the last 2 years journaling has suddenly become something I love doing again, only instead of writing who is my crush on any given day (as I did in high school), I now write about things like how many times they say "ya'll" on America's Best Dance Crew. So there, as I held the Junzo Terada journal in my hands, the bargaining began to take place in my mind. "My Wonder Woman journal is almost full. I actually NEED this." "It's only $10." "It has illustrations on every page!" "It's so cute!" "We are on a spending freeze." I put the journal down, walked out of Anthropologie, and the coveting began.

I couldn't stop thinking about the journal. I counted the days until money would filter back into our bank account. I tried to find it on the Anthropologie website. I called my friend and talked to her about the journal, laughing at the stupidity of it all. I planned which route I would take back to the mall. I could see myself going down the escalator by Paradise Bakery; picking up a sugar cookie to eat on the way to the journal. I also began to covet the cookie. Whenever I thought about the cookie, I thought about the journal, and vice-versa.
At last. I walked into the devil's lair with American Flags in my wallet, back to the place I had visited so often in my mind, and the corner was bare...the cupboard was gone. Before panic crept in I spied the cupboard at the back of the store. I was suddenly in front of it, reaching inside, discovering the journal was not there any more. Why? Why did I wait?! I frantically began looking underneath the lesser journals. Is it mixed in with the stationary? But at last! There was a pile of 10 of the very thing I desired on the bottom shelf, behind the paper rubble it was so superior to. I took the second one down and brought it to the cashier. She said, "This is really cute!" I KNOW.

Once I got home I discovered their website on the inside of the back cover. It's for a place in Japan, and luckily for me they don't ship internationally. But I did save pictures of some of the illustrations in my 2nd-most-awesome-journal to share with you.
Their website is

1 comment:

stephanie said...

Best blog post ever! It's like your in my mind. Been there and done that. Only take out sugar cookie and add in vanilla latte and take out journal and add in everything at the mall. ;)