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Mr. Peterman! What took you so long?

Imagine my surprise when I came home from work (15 Mondays to go and counting) to find my first J. Peterman catalog in the mailbox!  "Omigod!!" I squealed, jumping up and down. "It really DOES exist!" A Seinfeld junkie from way back (I must be on my 23rd cycle of reruns by now), I was absolutely elated and immediately started thumbing through the pages to enjoy that annoyingly precious copywriting. But, wait! Why now? Why have I just been added to their mailing list? The questions swirled around in my brain until I came to Page 9 and the St. Martin Peasant Blouse that I thought would be cool and cute over a little pencil skirt for a daytime wedding this summer....
The copy read:
"This crochet cotton blouse is just like the one you found on the Dutch side 17 years ago, and these linen cargo pants (that you bought on the French side) were what you were wearing that day.
Who says you can't go back?

"It was just a moment ago to me."

And then there was this....

In the summerhouse, eleven beautiful women drink cardamom tea.
Chilled mangoes and papayas are served in silver bowls.
Fans whirl overhead.
I am hypnotized by the evening heat and slow, charming whispers of Hindi and polite Oxonian English. The woman, whose smile is incandescent, not merely practiced, finally meets my eyes. I wish to hurl myself across the room and land on my feet, calmly, perfectly, in front of her.
"Beautiful tunic," I would say (hopefully embarrassed at my nervous lack of wit).

Omigod. Where is that credit card?!


I want three of each! I love that it exists. I rewatch Seinfeld almost every night.

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