Do you love receiving unsolicited catalogs in the mail? Then by all means, don’t read this.
You know that scene in “Dead Poets Society” where Robin Williams’ character makes his students rip the intro out of their poetry textbooks? “Begone, J. Edwin Pritchard!” “I don’t hear enough rrrrip!”
That’s who I think of when I use Catalog Choice to rid myself of the disturbing wasteful downright stupid unwanted catalogs clogging up my mailbox. “Begone, ‘Bed, Bath & Beyond’! Never darken my doorway again, ‘Jockey’! ‘ Walmart’–I said good DAY.”
I LOVE Catalog Choice. I love knowing I DO have a choice, and a method, of reducing the amount of costly junk mail swirling around me–and when I say “costly” I’m referring to the whole process, from cutting down the tree to my fellow citizens having to haul all that recycling off our island.
Never tried it? Here’s all you do: Go to catalogchoice.org and create your profile. It costs nothing. (They do ask for a donation, but again–your choice.) From there, every time you receive an unwanted catalog, all you do is log in, type the name of the catalog you wish to divorce yourself from, enter the codes printed on the back of the catalog, and–hey presto, it’s out of your life. (Catalog Choice even includes a way for you to report bad catalogs who refuse to listen to you the first time and keep showing up, though this hasn’t happened to me yet.)
Of course there are those catalogs with whom I enjoy a happy, lifetime relationship. (Talking to YOU, REI–and thanks again for opting out of Black Friday.) I would never “Catalog Choice” them out of my life. ‘Cabela’s’? No thanks. But ‘King Arthur Flour,’ you can snuggle on over here…
We probably all have more “losers” than “keepers” when it comes to catalogs. Want to share your top 3 keepers? I’m listening. (But for the rest–tell ’em to get lost.)
Wing's World 
Cool! I wonder if this works in Canada. We usually resort to actually phoning them. We do have a consumer’s choice thing that’s supposed to stop sales of your address, which does seem to have worked, but it doesn’t prevent people you order from online from suddenly sending you dead trees in the mail.
“Dead trees in the mail”–ha. Let me know if you try this and it works in O Canada!
I like Title Nine. You probably would, too, Gretchen.
I do appreciate them as a company. I don’t get their catalog just ’cause I prefer to try on athletic gear before buying it. But I can see wanting their stuff. (Aren’t they the ones with hilarious descriptors for their bras, like “major masher”? Maybe that’s another company. Always made me laugh.