A longtime fan of both J. Peterman's clothing and characteristically bizarre copy sent us this "Temptress" dress. "This seems really out of character for this company — their usual style is spicy, but not rape-y!" she pointed out.
We have to agree; it's odd that no one at J. Peterman realized that the best way to get a woman to purchase a nicely draped, rhinestone-studded dress might not be vis-à-vis a rape scenario:
You lean against a boardwalk railing, being sultry and licking ice cream at the same time, holding your shoes.
"You shouldn't be dressed that way," he says.
"What way? It's just a dress."
Later he breaks windows to get to you.
Also, what could the last sentence of this paragraph possibly mean??
You refuse fakery. Refuse the second rate. Refuse the untimeless. Confuse magnates and love every minute.
Uh, you don't know which entrepreneur is breaking into your room to get to you? J. Peterman, please stick to waxing poetic over caftans.