Do you remember when US Magazine used to be all cool and fun to read, with it's heavy stock paper and it's modicum of ads and the proper binding and it's many, many interesting interviews? And do you see what it is now, with it's paltry little staples holding the cheap-arse paper that bleeds ink on my fingers when I bother flipping through? US now has more ads than stories, more pictures than copy, and really, it's not any better than TigerBeat or 16! or some such swishy-wishy-floofy-poofy kind of rag.
Distressing. That's what it is. And when this all went down a few years ago, it was actually more disappointing for me than when I finally realised that I'd outgrown YM Because, outgrowing a magazine addiction is ok. But having them up and change colours on you? That's just rude. But you know what's worst? My Jane, my beloved Jane, my darling monthly set of pages that help me make the distinction between an empowered woman and a slut... it's changing. The ball is rolling, my friends, and it's rolling in the wrong direction.
Too. Many. Ads. Too many pictures. Once upon a time, Jane used to tell me long and touching stories about how random chicks in faraway countries were ruling their little corner of the world, or how some bastards in counties close to home would rally together to stamp down the women around them, and how the strong broads around them were pissed off and fighting back. And the words? there would be many. And the thoughts? They would be angry. But now? Scant one-and-a-half-page stories that don't make me suitable angry enough to care about what they're saying!
What's happening, Jane? You used to tell me that wearing orange lipstick is cool, because it's different and I should stand up for my right to Do that Don't. But now, you're telling me that orange lipstick is cool because some celeb is wearing it... and that's just not cool!
And your wierd fixation with Pam Anderson? Ok, fine, I understand that you feature her and her regular articles because all the other femmy rags won't and you want to appear strong and feminist without being butch and un-fun... you want to do it with irony and wit and... I don't know, Jane. I think it's getting old. I think you're losing your touch.
Oh, don't get me wrong. I still love you. I do. But I'm afraid that sometimes, you just don't love me like you used to. Sometimes, I think you love the Corporate Sponsoring Man more. And really? That hurts.
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