The Lands' End fall catalog is porn for the heartsick man. Who thought sixty pages of stylish-yet-practical clothing would employ models who are disturbing approximations of the lovely thirty-something woman who doesn't want to put up with your shit anymore?
...
For a second, studying the supposedly idealized images of men in the catalog — the ideal man for these uber-women? Your replacement? — the old anger flashes: These guys are dorks! They're wearing clothes chosen by their women - turtlenecks and non-Levi's jeans, monogrammed, $50 button-down shirts with matching ties. . . khakis.
...
Each page of Lands' End fantasy is a perfect scene in the wonder of her new life without you.
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