I have a serious problem with magazines. The glossy pages, bright colors. The pretty pictures that pop off the page and the bold headlines that draw me in. Doesn't really matter who is on the cover or what's promised inside - I have my favorites that I'll always go back to. Ever since I was a teenager I've been addicted to Cosmopolitan. Mostly because of how deviant it felt to read it. I know I had no need for the "50 hottest sex tips" and "How to keep your man from cheating" at 14, but something about those pages always drew me in. I admit I barely read any of it any more, but that doesn't keep me from renewing my subscription each month.
I actually subscribe to five magazines. Pathetic, right? They mostly just lay around the house. Sometimes they'll get tagged for outfit ideas or things I want to buy, other times I'll tear out pages and put them on the fridge to remind me not to eat too much ice cream. And with every magazine that arrives I have a ritual. Vogue, Teen Vogue, Cosmo, Lucky, and Shape. I only ordered Teen because I love the little size and it was 2 years for like 10 bucks. Lucky is how I come up with all of my fabulous outfits. Shape is because they always have the best celebrity bikini pictures and I like the whole healthy living/active lifestyle thing (I very recently adopted it myself, back in January). Vogue is the newest of the five, because after seeing SATC I decided perhaps it was time I grew up and appreciated big girl fashion instead of the neon pink hair barettes and leopard print tights that it's little sister boasted.
Each time I get a new magazine, I flip through every page, cover to cover. I want to see all the pictures and all of the ads, then I start over. Usually after I see everything I take my time reading the confessions or reader mail, checking out the different ways to wear one piece, and see what the beauty picks of the month are. The magazines all get read several times, but why do I feel the need to hold on to them after that? I need to start a big book with all of the things I want to remember from my magazines. I can pull out the pictures and articles I want to save and trash the rest. Or recycle. Either way, I don't need the last years worth of Vogues laying around my house, now do I?
I don't know what it is about magazines. We're always keen to pick up a couple when we are at the airport. They sit pretty in our bathrooms and on our coffee tables. We watch the Devil Wears Prada and secretly wish we could get caught up in that same glamour world. I've never been so much a newspaper gal. Mostly because there's no color.
