In the meantime, here is a big, open FUCK YOU, POTTERY BARN!
I have a marketing background. Obviously, whoever you hired to do your marketing is smoking crack. Or pot, more likely. Because only someone completely stoned would have this brainstorm:
Hmm, someone ordered a comforter from our website.
I know! Let's sign them up for EVERY EMAIL LIST FOR EVERY COMPANY WE OWN! And let's make them unsubscribe INDIVIDUALLY, EACH TIME, FROM EACH LIST! Even though she may not have heard of some of these places!
Fuck you, Pottery Barn! I may just send your marketing department some edible penises, or used sex toys.
