I am an anti-gloss magazine type of woman. I haven't bought one in years. The only 'gloss' magazines I read are business specific or relative to our industry. For more years than I can remember I have purchased Practical Parenting. I can safely say this magazine has accompanied me on the parenthood road like a trusty guide and companion in arms. To Practical Parenting magazine a heart thank you old friend.
Its the 'womens' mags that I don't take to all that well. I like to call them the 'bling, bling, ting, gloss & made up gos coupled with the over-expectation of the stiletto healed, permanently coiffured, plastic mannequin culture.'
Its great if you're into things that might include botox@20, budget outfits for only $700, revolving door boyfriends, acting the environmentalist life.
Most women agree, even if secretly, mags like these are a visual plastic surgery to cover the ageing cracks of reality. Shiny & pretenious, 'gloss' style magazines are 90% advertising, the remaining 10% is the content that pushes the realistic boundaries by portraying high end lifestyles as the minimal social norm; certainly makes a mockery of the lives lead by the everyday suburban women. An unreachable expectation that usually has most women breathing out a unrequited sigh. 'If only I could......
For years I have perused the stands for a magazine to sate my thirst, searched for something intelligent, something light, real and uncluttered with hype. Every so often I find a rare gem in amongst what I call "MagTriangulation", my 'sar-chasim' on the 3 main reading genres of magazines. I feel strangled by the lack 'unfearful' perspective on offer, or yet to uncover.
I also abhor the over use of advertising in nearly all of them. Articles seem to disappear in the ravines of tiny spaces between the mountainous domination of advertising. Oh joy! did I buy this expensive mag for a handful of 3 paragraph articles or did I pay for the 300 pages of advertising with the articles thrown in as a tokinal gesture?
I like to read about real people, they don't always have to be the everyday heroes, though I adore them too. I savour content that is true, non-hype, down to earth; a realistic read without the blah of social tweedom, havetobe wannabe's, social correctness and the pandemic of ever increasing environmental bullying rammed in between the lines
(must be pandemic level if anxious 3 year olds are tallying up their daily carbon footprint emissions before they go to sleep at night), I grew up with a simple prayer of thanks.
I like fashion. In general, I think it's a good idea to wear clothes.
I enjoy seeing apparel that is individual, gutsy, subliminally out there, wearable and reachable, with a bent idea of comfort.
Life seems to be a perpetual motion of fast paced 24 hour consumption of all things living. Yielding to the daily onslaught of regimentation, every moment accounted for. Rare is the opportunity to be an accidental tourist in your own day.
We even economise our time outs to simple micro stops, with a coffee 2 go, read and stand, waiting for the bus/train/taxi, emails in transit. On route publicly, we find that magazines are a friend, a buddy to keep us company in the awkwardness of waiting in a communal space shared with others.
A favourite mag that provides the literature of personal taste will be enough of a dynamic interlude to consider it a best friend of the moment.
Just like a chummy catch ups, a great mag will emotionally recharge the batteries until the next time, where we'll pick it up again, start where ever, no matter how long its been; both human & text friends are great value for that.
This is were advertising takes its place; in the consumers delight of discovery while in captured audience.
Sadly the success of advertising is no longer based on position but how much advertising is featured in the whole magazine; too much and the reader will automatically glaze over. Mag Readers might like to read with a balance of pictorial content, they also want to be swept away like a fling.
Conceptionaly, segueing articles and advertisements is extremely effective with lasting impact, but very rarely done. Spaces, like the tedious boredom of rote are permanently templated. Inside front cover is always the most expensive place to advertise, by that conditioning, consumers bypass it altogether.Sadly for the product owner it becomes a wasted financial enterprise.
Sadder still is the reader who faces the dilemma of being a Nigel.
Single, an unattached reader.
You see them hovering over magazine stands near train stations hoping to pair up with a compatible mag for their journey. Some will leave empty handed, for them its a case of 'I'm between reads right now' others will head straight for second best, the quick use & dump variety of 'The 30 Minute Stand'; politely called a Newspaper.
Sometimes its love at first sight and this is how we get to Frankie.
My daughter sent me a text on her way to Tafe, "Frankie slid into my bag and made my trip enjoyable".
followed a little later with a text "Bringing Frankie home, cant wait for you to see".
Gulp.
I hadn't planned on actually cooking.
I was going with the drag the feet and procrastinate approach till one of my sons, preferably the one that is an exceptional cook will offer to take over.
Its a parental revenge thing.
I finished cooking a lovely meal for all 7 of us +1, when she came through the door, alone.
"Where's Frankie?"
Blank look.
Ping!
Gasps in complete awe as she revelled Frankie from her bag.
Oh, it's not a person.
Jubilant and excited about her find, her secret garden, her butterfly amongst a gale of moths. Obviously she was smitten, stricken with the love bug. Once I finally got the chance to handle Frankie, I was more than half way there too.
While we are getting to know Frankie better, two of the boys battle tug -o-war style over Frankie's plate.
I must be the only person in the entire world that cooked dinner for a magazine. Well if there ever was a magazine that could be a person, it would be Frankie!
There was an opportunity that Frankie and I would get some one on one time while I waited at Little Miss Mischief's Judo class this afternoon, no, my oldest daughter has taken Frankie for the day, I will just have to find a Frankie of my own
Go find Frankie, the hunt for the shy flash of genius its well worth the treasure!
Another blog, written smoke free by the author. All rights reserved 2011 by Bubba Moe Slings Pty Ltd
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