This morning at brunch, Patrick and I turned to our literature for a little post-gorging relaxation (we could have talked to each other, but why?). He had his Toronto Star and I had my equally intellectual Glamour.
The most entertaining parts of this magazine were its disturbing elements. And since I long to entertain, here they are for you:
Aw, crap. I see before me a fashion that the magazine is trying to push on people that I hope to god I don’t cave for like I did with the shrug. This is UGLY. This is WRONG. This is TAPERED JEANS.
And it’s not tapered jeans alone. It’s tapered jeans on Beyonce. Beyonce is a gorgeous woman with a hot bod – but she said it herself – she’s Bootylicious. Anyone, and I mean anyone, that has even a little something on their hips, thighs or bum should NEVER wear tapered anything. Something that makes one’s ankles look tiny (and who cares about that?) comes at the cost of the rest of the body.
Like any women’s magazine, there’s a long article about sex in it that’s supposed to tell us something we don’t know. In true form, this one is called “20 New Things Every Woman Should Know About Sex.” Sex has been happening for thousands of years, yet it seems that Glamour has not only found out one new thing about it, but twenty. Riiight.
They all sucked, but this one was a magnificent example of disturbing (I'll let you read if for yourself):
Now, had Eminem sang a song called “Hipbones Like That” I’d remain an undesirable pig – but thankfully for me, he didn’t. I owe all my boinking to Slim Shady. Glamour was right - I totally learned something new.
Later on, I come across an ad that has one of those perfume sample things. I’m a sucker, so I peel the little fold back and inhale the trapped scent. Floral, fresh – not bad. I even rub a little bit of scented page on my wrist to see how it would smell on me. Still decent.
I then turn the page to see what scent I’m enjoying and I’m horrified:
Oh, fuck me! You can't be serious! Don’t even get me started on how stupid I think scented tampons are – but the fact that they got me to bury my nose in tampon-smell is TWISTED.
Every magazine is a big, fat hypocrite. Care to see what I mean? At the beginning of the magazine, the editor raves about how beauty isn’t a one-size-fits-all deal. Things that we view as flaws should be embraced because they make us different and somebody out there thinks it’s hot. She points (quite literally) to Venus’s gut (what gut?) and Frida’s unibrow and says something to the effect of “See these freaks? See what’s wrong with them (we’ve highlighted the areas in case you didn’t catch them)? These women are still admired! Now, run out there, you monster, and apply this logic to yourself!”
Glamour gets us feeling all empowered over our looks (after all, the subtitle shouted, “Got flaws? Big deal!”) and we hurdle through the rest of the magazine. Pages later, we come across this awesome article:
At first, just looking at the title, "Out-Of-Control Bulges", I was thrilled. I thought I was finally going to see what all the hoopola over Milton Berle was about.
But noooo. That’s not the kind of bulges Glamour cares about. A bit of fat pressing against your clothing is a REALLY BIG FLAW and apparently IS A REALLY BIG DEAL. So much so that it deserves a full page spread, with meticulous categorizing of all the kinds of bulges out there. In fact, the owners of these bulges needed to have their identities protected due to the humiliating nature of this kind of disfigurement.
So, just to clarify Glamour's stance: Frida, who was probably the inspiration for Bert's look on Sesame Street, should be applauded for keepin' it real, but a little bra strap bumpage should have you running to the hills in shame. Got it?
Now it’s time to launch some very paranoid, suspicious girlfriends onto unsuspecting boyfriends. This too, comes compliments of Glamour. It happens like this:
Girl Internal Dialogue: La la la. I’m reading Glamour. La la la.
Girl comes across article entitled “Men & Cheating: Will He Or Won’t He?”
Girl Internal Dialogue: La la .. Oh! Will he? I guess I never thought about it. Hmm, maybe I should read this.
Girl reads on to discover that 91% of guys are tempted to cheat, and that some of them just “find” themselves getting it on with a chick they met at Starbucks – no warning signals given!
Girl Internal Dialogue: What? Why, that could happen to me!
Since the article doesn’t do anything but fear monger (it provides no advice on how to talk to your partner openly), girl is left to only look up from her Glamour magazine at the completely unaware male in front of her and wonder “will he or won’t he?”
Will he? DID HE? Her eyes narrow … she reaches for the butter knife … her jaw clenches … she leans forward as her fingers tighten around the base of the knife …