TFW No Pottery Barn Basket Girlfriend

I know this sounds so silly, but hey, unbeknownst to me yesterday was National Girlfriend Day. I spent it (in part) peeking into the nearest Pottery Barn store, an oasis of beauty where I can plunk myself down and imagine that I’m living my dream life somewhere on the Pacific Coast Highway, where the mists meet the mountains and all the beautiful people enjoy earth’s own slice of paradise.

To my surprise, I found something I’d actually like to buy right now: a blanket that I just love, the Colossal Ribbed Handknit Throw Blanket in white, and after sleeping on it, I think I’ll head back over there today and pick it up. It helps that the thing’s on clearance (I live above my means, in all frankness, but I try not to live too far above them!).

That’s not the only thing there I like, of course; honestly, I like a huge fraction of the whole store’s merchandise, but there’s one item that stands out to me: a basket of all things. A particular basket they have in stock (I think it’s the Savannah Handwoven Seagrass Basket) that just looks so girlfriend-y, like my dream girl would be holding it (and its contents) in some figure-hugging white linen dress, posing sensually and oh-so-femininely with some adorable expression. No doubt this scene would be taking place in our beach house on the South Coast of California, where together with our six beautiful kids we’d snuggle under that blanket I like out on the balcony, and, caressed by Pacific air and the crash of waves ashore, watch the sun go down and the stars come out every evening.

To my way of thinking, that’s what summer should be all about.

I’m not even sure why that particular scenario keeps popping up in my head, nor why I think that basket looks like something a girlfriend in particular would have, but I just do.

It’s oddly specific (not to mention, by my imagination’s standards, oddly domestic), so much so I can’t help but wonder if I saw some cinematic scene or photoshoot as a kid that really made a (subconscious) impression on me. It might have even come from Pottery Barn’s own catalogs; my mother did show me an awful lot of them when I was a kid. Maybe there’s some archive somewhere I could pour over and go “aha, that’s it!”.

The thought crossed my mind that, if certain forms of reincarnation are true, it might even be some memory of a past life, but searching my feelings I honestly doubt if any of my past lives were quite that good; I suspect one (perhaps at the turn of the 19th century) was good enough to not need a job, but what I have in my head when I see that basket is “two-comma brokerage account with a swanky SoCal beach house and drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend”, which is a whole ‘nother level up from that.

Oh well, my dream might be a steep climb from where I am today, but at least it’s achievable; when I look at the totality of the situation, I actually stand a decent chance of making it!

So I’ll go back to the mall and fetch me that throw, awaiting the day when my love will find me…or, perhaps, I will find her. 💖

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