As I sat at the table and watched The Boy peruse the latest Scholastic Book offerings and circling his literary desires, I began reminiscing.
Remember this time of year when that big, glorious book would be left by the front door?
The pages that could change your life.
Make you into a perfectly matched pre-teen with all the turtlenecks, corduroy and argyle you could hope for.
Winter coats I would never need in So Cal, with matching ear muffs.
The Catalogue of Catalogues.
The goodness of JC Penny's.
People, I am telling you, when that book (that must have wiped out a small forest to be made) showed up, I grabbed a pen spent hours flipping the pages, circling the items that could make me into the stylish tween I hoped and prayed to be.
I swear, I can smell the shiny pages and feel the papercuts.
While I coveted all of it, there were a few items that I actually prayed for. Feverishly.
First, their was a pair of ice skates. $19.99. ( If you've been a reader of my blog, you know I had BIG Olympic figure skating dreams, all set to the theme song of Cheers.) I can remember looking at those skates again and again, just knowing the shiny, white, pleather was the answer to my prayers. The keys to my destiny.
I actually looked for a $20 bill in the street regularly. Alas, this search was in vain. For anyone who knows my family knows if a $20 bill was languishing in the street, it was my sister, Amy, who would discover it.
Fortunately, Santa came through for me and that Christmas those skates were glistening like a million diamonds in front of our tree.
As I got older, the catalogue held the same mystique. What offerings would I find for 1989?
Only a vanity with matching bench. Oh Lawd. I needed that gorgeous piece of glass and brass to complete my evolution into a chic, sophisticated young woman. It would look perfect next to my white, lacquer dresser. The one with the tilted mirror that had a purple light. Perfect.
I could just picture my Wet N Wild make up lining it's edge, with one of those French, glass parfume bottles with the fancy fringe.
No, Santa, who must have had a sense of style beyond the brass, knew better than to mix brass and lacquer, so the vanity remained just a hope of a teenage girl.
So, what were your Penny's dreams? Did they come true?