I don’t know what it is about the monogram that I like so much. Is it the sense of ownership it brings me? The pillows are already on my bed, do I really have to go the extra mile to tell the world that they are mine all mine and no one elses? Heck, I won’t question my instincts. What I do know is that the pages of Pottery Barn are my favorite form of aspirational living and that one day, instead of putting pillows on milk crates and declaring it a couch, I will dwell in Pottery Barn perfection.