I must say, Lady Bricabrac and I thought that we knew, if anyone did, what the New Eclecticism was. We assumed (naturally) it referred to the recent mushrooming of curiosity shops in all their guises: antique shops and malls, vintage markets, consignment stores, and even the so-called “eclectic” co-ops. By offering alternative (repurposed, refinished, rediscovered, upcycled) items from the cookie-cutter merchandise sitting on the shelves of mainstream retail outlets, these venues are the essence of eclecticism. And this bit of commodity counterculture, it seems, is in vogue.

It turns out, however, that the New Eclecticism is something else entirely. According to the Ethan Allen Fall catalog that arrived in my mailbox the other day, the New Eclecticism is a streamlined, corporate affair, an improvement in ease and convenience over the more traditional form on sale and available through those mushrooming shops.

The Big Idea.

Each letter of “Eclecticism” is printed in a different color on the catalog’s cover, as if to illustrate the Big Idea. But in case some readers don’t get it, the CEO’s note on the first page spells it out with a dictionary definition: “Eclectic is commonly defined as ‘deriving ideas, taste, or style from a diverse range of sources.’”

To assist one in deriving these ideas, tastes, and styles, the catalog sprinkles inspirational how-to’s and “Eclecticism 101” tips among its pages and pictures of Groton Glass Table Lamps and Light Quatrefoil Mirrors. One is advised to “crash classic and contemporary together,” to “be fearless with color,” to “mix formal with funky,” to “make it your own with art and accents.” The catalog has everything one needs, from artwork to mirrors to gimcracks of all sorts—Tang horses, glass vases, ceramic table-top sculptures and shells—to achieve this “diverse” look from floor to ceiling. One can even buy high quality and high-priced faux flowers in pots for a more organic, natural look.

These objects and accents could be mistaken for authentic heirlooms and souvenirs, and it is the one-stop collection that is at the heart of the Big Idea. The fundamental irony here, of course, is that the “New Eclecticism” (celebrated not only by Ethan Allen, of course, but by Pottery Barn, Ballard Designs, Crate & Barrel, even Target)–or at least regular old Eclecticism–that relies for its success and beauty on a texture of diversity, a sense of time, the fragrance of life promises an aesthetic one can purchase all at once, by “collecting” the interchangeable items available in one single catalog. Who needs “a diverse range of sources?” It’s enough, it seems, to resemble a bona fide collection culled from a family’s history or a lifetime’s experiences.

The True Eclecticism. Available at The Mad Hatter in Conway, SC.

This catalog filled with beautiful things is thus also filled with insight into contemporary American design culture. It suggests that, conveniently, even eclecticism can be purchased in toto with one click online or one visit to the retail outlet. Like so much else in our McCulture and McSociety, Eclecticism can be acquired in a single exchange, under, as it were, one roof. There is no authentic collecting or collection, no legitimate souvenirs or mementoes. This “curated medley” and customized “blend of everything beautiful” that urges the unexpected, unpredictable, asymmetry and mismatches is all coordinated and curated and collected by the company’s designers. For you. They’ve done all the hard stuff—no need to scavenge at flea markets or to trawl antique shops. Don’t worry about bringing anything home from your travels or visiting art galleries or flipping through old books. You can simply buy the look, ready-made, pret-a-porter, fast food-style. How trite. How boring.

The connoisseur of the eclectic will not eat a frozen dinner.

I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be thrilled for my home to look like any given page of the Ethan Allen catalog, but I must remind myself how generic and soulless (if tasteful and flawless!) this would be. The idea of simply buying a look or a style or a complete collection—not earning it or building it or assembling it or adding to it—seems… empty. Sort of like—for some reason—a frozen dinner. The genuine connoisseur of the eclectic will not eat a frozen dinner.

We must remember that the true eclecticism seems to elude the corporate catalogs and manufacturers and designers. It is probably best found, not in the curated and glossy pages showcasing a catalog’s upscale merchandise, but in the wide, wide variety of curiosity shops where you might pluck from some obscure corner of a second-floor booth the very piece you’ve been looking for. This alternative is not as tailored, perhaps, and maybe somewhat dusty, but it is authentic: found, chosen, and curated by you. It does not arrive in mailboxes nationwide and it is not available to anyone with a PayPal account. Only to you—with your eye, your style, your ideas and, of course, just the right space in your collection.