I’ve never worked in marketing, so my grasp of direct mail optimization is, at best, layperson: somewhere, my name and address have been coded into a database indicating that I purchased X or contributed to Y, thereby indicating I might want to throw money at Z. While mailing list sellers and database analysts rake in the cash, I rake in piles of credit card offers, loads of baby-product spam, and earlier this year, and despite repeated requests to the contrary, a daily phone call from Kucinich for President. (Had Dennis himself called even once and explained to me how a batshit midget congressman snags a bangin’ flame-haired goddess like Elizabeth, I’d've stopped ear-raping his volunteers and started tithing to his campaign.)
And then there are the CATALOGS. Because honestly, you’re just one monogrammed Pottery Barn Kids Anywhere Chair away from being sized up as a Saab-driving, arugula-inhaling hoarder with a troubling flatware jones. And a hankering for an Atlantic Monthly subscription. And an outdoor kitchen textiled in last year’s color palette THIS WILL NOT STAND.
Also? Your dog eats Sevruga and sleeps on a bed of hand-stitched Wagyu hides.
