Women's Magazine? No, thank you

You know, I am adding another resolution for the year: stop buying and reading women’s magazines. Because they always manage to depress the crap out of me – all of them. All they are talking about is the things that scare me the most: cancer, babies and other people’s success. It’s either some successful people with babies, fighting cancer, or people who were enormously successful, but now they get a baby with cancer, or at least about someone who is in cancer research and – ironically – got cancer and now can’t have babies, although they didn’t even wanted them in the first place. I am sorry, people, but I am planning to deal with these issues the way a normal adult person supposed to: by complete and utter denial. And you are bursting my bubble!

Oh, I am sorry: that’s actually not the worst thing. The worst are the women’s magazine’s Q &A columns that filled with some horrible nasty things that happened to somebody and the answer is always: “Oh, it’s completely normal for the women of certain age that should be expected”. WTF??? Before I read this I wasn’t even aware of the existence of this horrible crap and now apparently it is about to happen to me, thank you very much! Every time I am reading women’s magazine I start to feel as if death is breathing down my neck. Dear editors, if that was your goal, you have succeeded, bravo!

And don’t even let me start on fashion. Why oh why people stopped photographing fashion the way they did in 60’s and 70’s, when you could actually see the clothes on the model? What is this – these blurry blobs of color and beneath them you barely can see a very angry and uncomfortably young girl, turning back to you and slouching like she is about to throw up… And it’s ether this or pages and pages with tiny little pictures with tiny little sidebars about some people nobody cares about who are wearing or making something you can’t really see on that tiny photos. Really, someone reads this?

When we were sitting in the waiting room at the garage, waiting for a car, I was flipping through a couple of issues of “Maxim” that were lying around. Well, that was a nice magazine. It was actually funny and interesting and the girls on the pictures were much better looking and they all were post-pubescent, which was a nice change of scenery. I read quite a few articles and they all were entertaining and not a bit scary: something about computer games, something about food (not a word about health benefits and calories – not even a word!) and some dirty, but funny reader’s letters in Q&A. Men know how to have fun, apparently. I really should think of subscribing for a men’s magazine, instead of this glossy nightmare from “Flair” and “Elle” to “Good Housekeeping” and “O”.