Wednesday, April 24, 2013

In praise of magazines

I love magazines.  From fashion and style magazines to gourmet magazines: From Elle magazine to Surf magazine, from Entertainment Weekly to Allergic Living (okay, maybe not that last one, but I love that there's a magazine called that).  I have loved magazines for a very long time, since tweendom, when Tatum O'Neal and Brooke Shields were first famous.  Ah, the thrill of  buying the latest issue of Teen magazine or Seventeen!  The fun fashions, the advice columns, the teen idols, like Scott Baio and Parker Stevenson.  Weirdly, I recall when and where I glimpsed the first issue of Seventeen with Whitney Houston on the cover.  It was at a figure skating practice.  Some girls who were watching the session had gotten their hands on the brand new issue and we skaters would glide over to the boards occasionally to flip through it.  Instead of practising our flips.  Which is probably why I never got anywhere in skating.  My addiction to mags is a source of bewilderment to some of my friends; they just don't understand the allure, no pun intended (only a magfiend will understand that).  I have two friends who are even vehemently opposed to fashion magazines.  (How DID we get to be friends?!)  The reason, they both state, is simply, "They make me feel bad about myself".  Ironically, they are two of the most stylish and gorgeous women I know.  The husband of one of them confesses that the fashion industry makes him really angry. I don't really get that.  Maybe I'm not thinking deeply enough about it.  Or maybe I just ignore the bad stuff and appreciate the good.  Of course I recognize the absurdity and negative influence of some aspects of the fashion biz, like the promotion of ridiculous ideals , consumerism and label mania.  But I also see the very positive and fascinating side....the creativity, the beauty;  the craftsmanship, the spectacle and even the humour.  Just watch Catwalk, the documentary featuring the preparation and execution of an early John Galliano show.  Or check out the book which accompanied the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art a few years ago.  One can't deny the genius.  I mean, making an exquisite dress using painted medical lab slides as adornment? Brilliant.  Plus, if you're wearing the dress and you suddenly feel the urge to examine a drop of blood under a microscope, you're all set.....unless you don't have a coverslip on you.  Or a microscope.  All joking aside, fashion magazines offer considerably more than just the skinny models and $3000 dresses.  From those magazines,  I have learned a lot about art, photography, books, music, food, health, travel, cinema,  and even politics. So, maybe, just maybe, all that good stuff outweighs the fact that fashion magazines kind of make me feel bad about myself too.

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