Catalogues are one of the most delightful things to ever be dropped in my orange-brick eyesore letterbox- far preferable than bank statements, bills and letters from school. It is then perplexing to learn that the glossy catalogues, boasting made-in-China homewares and socks at 20% off, lie. These catalogue-mongerers abuse my misplaced trust in shameless consumerism by presenting products being utilised in manners unheard of in the everyday life of a disgustingly overweight geek with an abundance of unwanted hair.
To convincingly pull off a lie, one must insert a morsel of truth. Don't be fooled by the apparent normalness of the delightfully domestic folded towels available in burgundy, avocado, sunflower and aquamarine- they are not lying to you. Nor are the stainless steel kitchen appliance or double page spread of children's DVDs. By the time you have reached the underwear page, you have been well and truly taken in by the unexceptional, commonplace depictions of products. The wool has been pulled so far over your eyes, that you fail the notice the utter ridiculousness of the advertisements for undies.
Might I point out:
Girls do not smile broadly and bump hips with each other whilst wearing checkered boy-shorts.
Girls do not dance around with badly feigned enthusiasm in brightly coloured bras.
Girls do not have what appear to be in-depth conversations while standing awkwardly in cottontails of a bygone era. Girls do not stand in a row and pout seductively whilst wearing disgusting underwear sets that their grandmothers would approve of.
And whilst we're on the topic, girls do not clutch pillows in a half-arsed attempt to have a pillow fight whilst wearing pyjamas adorned with a retro cartoon character of choice.
The catalogue people are filthy liars. It's a conspiracy!
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