Crochet, Fashion, Magazines

The photo on the homepage of fashion designer Michael Kors's website features a crocheted cashmere cardigan. The photo is used in ads in fashion mags this season, and I smile every time I see it.

Speaking of fashion mags. I've kept no secret about my love of Teen Vogue. It's the whole package, kids. Pretty pictures, good writing, a clear editorial scope. It addresses teens as intelligent people, and it skips the flaky, flighty, likeohmygod quiz crap of most other teen mags. I do flip through big-girl Vogue every so often, but I admit I don't read it cover-to-cover like I do the teen version. Maybe it's because the qualities I find appealing to a teen audience I react cynically to for myself. Really, I don't care a bit about high society, and there are a million things I'd rather do than read about who's who at gala events and resort outings. They do often run great feature articles, though. Anyway.

In the last few weeks I've decided to branch out and pick up some new reads (to me). I started with Seventeen (beware the assault of ads when you click), thinking I should expand beyond Teen Vogue. Dude. The last time I read Seventeen I was about fourteen. It was okay until I got about halfway through it. Then I was awash with flaky, flighty, likeohmygod crap and I couldn't go on. Yes, I understand that as one of the few teen magazines not planning to go out of print in coming months, Seventeen must have quite a readership. Which means that as consumers, not all teens seem to want what Teen Vogue gives them (or they want both – to be approached meaningfully and to be approached as vacuous allowance-spenders who can't see much past the zit-faced guys they've got their sights on – I really can't say). I'll stick with Teen Vogue exclusively, and let myself live the illusion that teens are more self-confident and self-aware than I was, and I'll smile because of it.

I also picked up Lucky and Marie Claire. Lucky was recommended to me, and I hated it. It's possible I hated it because it takes the final step away from reading fashion mags – the step where I imagine how I'd find inspiration for crochet or knitting, or how I'd muse about putting odd outfits together for myself – and is entirely about consuming their idea of the outfits we should be wearing, and is about the actual consumption, too. Blech. Catalogs are for buying things. I have no need for a mag that's about how to buy things, especially one that tells me what to buy.

Marie Claire, on the other hand, was fabulous. I'd never actually read the mag before, and was attracted to the September issue based on a report I'd read about them ramping up their “smart woman” content. Yes, I love that the cover is black and that Maggie Gyllenhaal graces it. I actually read this mag cover-to-cover. It's well-written and down-to-earth. Nice.

Away from fashion, I've been reading some street art mags of late. They're hands-down more beautiful and visually interesting than any other mags I read. Only thing is, they're written by artists, not writers. I have my typical college-newspaper reaction to them, and have an often distracting urge to read them with red pen in hand. Which reminds me, I've been meaning to update our submission guidelines for ages.

How's that for rambling blogging?

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