So I used to live and breathe J. Crew. Back in the days before the innernet, I’d devour the catalog and irritate my mother by falling in love with a sweater, without which future happiness was impossible. Then I got a job, and started buying my own J. Crew. J. Crew got a website! J. Crew stores came into Utah! I got a J. Crew credit card! I worked for J. Crew for about two months, where I spent about twice what I earned! You get the picture.

But now I can’t look at a J. Crew catalog without wanting to fling it across the room, usually followed by some expletives. J. Crew, what went wrong between us? How did it get so bad? Is it because you are SO EXPENSIVE? Consider this dress, made of cotton corduroy:It’s $120. I could make it for $12.

And while price is a big part of it, J. Crew, I started to realize something was wrong between us even before I became the cheapest woman in the world. I blame your prose style. There never used to be any copy in the catalog, other than the fiber content and the color name. Now, there are condescending “Did You Know” sections (“The secret is too good to keep to ourselves…so we’re letting you in on what you might (or might not) already know”) [note: what?] and useless bits like this: “Our head designer loves this design so much, we named it after her.” J. Crew, I hate to say this, but I don’t care.

So J. Crew, I’m afraid we’re over. Even the shoes, J. Crew–even the shoes aren’t quite what they used to be. I know this is hard, but it’s better this way. For me.

(Now all I need to do is figure how to remove the link to J. Crew in the right nav here. I can’t very break up with J. Crew and keep promoting it.)