Waiting Room Editorial: What Not to Read

Recently, a ladyfriend and I were getting our nails done, (this was before my New Years resolution to paint my own) and I casually picked up a glossy magazine to peruse whilst being pampered. Usually I look one over, get bored and toss it aside, but this time I was too shocked to go mind-numb. What is this garbage we call “women’s magazines”?

are you fucking kidding?

Look, I worshiped the covers and ad-ridden insides of high-gloss fashion mags as a youth. I would hoard the publications and pore over their details: the clothes, the make-up, the butt-sculpting workouts, the hungry models and their tiny frames. At 10, I “read” Seventeen magazine. In my teens, I moved on to Marie Claire, ELLE, Nylon (and the occasional Adbusters). Clearly, at 19 I had a subscription what I considered the bible, or Vogue.

Anyhow, I digress. Now I am clearly older and wiser (HA!). While skimming an issue of allure (graced by none other than the emaciated Keira Knightley) and there was an article about… I shit you not… how to cuff your jeans. Um, really? We need a magazine to tell me how to roll up my pants? I’m pretty sure I learned how to do that when I was 3. Oh, and good news! There’s weight-loss pill that seemed promising, as “obese mice that received it orally lost weight with no adverse behavioral changes.” Hallelujah. Maybe the next diet craze will revolve around eating obese mice. I hear they’re low-carb… Moving on.

The most disturbing discovery during my study at the salon, however, were a set of ads for Lucky magazine. Lucky is a women’s shopping magazine and their fall 2012 campaign was something beneath tacky, beyond icky. Their meta tagline, “Fill the Void”, was accompanied by various upper-class, lady New Yorker “problems”. For example: “My beauty routine is getting routine”, “My 5-day cleanse is only on day 2”, and my personal favorite: “My kid calls the nanny Mom.”

I’m not going to get into the debate of the merits of glossy, glamorous magazines. I like style and I know some of them are artistic, but most of these rags are dreadful publications that serve to make women feel fat, endlessly imperfect and distract them from, I don’t know, IMPORTANT THINGS. Are you bored because your mascara does not lengthen as you wish? Are you hungry because you have been ingesting only green juice for 2 days? Are you sad because your ”kid” calls the nanny mom? Yes, readers, you’re right, none of these are real problems, they are petty complaints from the over-privileged.

As Emily on xojane.com writes, maybe the void simply needs to be filled by love, or at least a solid meal if you’re “cleansing”? No, that would be crazy, and healthy, and what well-adjusted woman wants those things?!? Clearly, prohibitively-priced stilettos are the only cure for loneliness and cellulite.

I will, however, admit that I still treat myself to a trashy magazine (usually UsWeekly) when I travel, and I do technically work in the fashion industry. What? I’m only human. End rant.