When I was around 13, I started sneaking into my older sister's bedroom and swiping her copies of Glamour and Cosmopolitan. It was exciting to learn about all these new things, including the importance of "Dramatic Daytime Eye Makeup" and how to kiss a man in such a way that would "Leave Him Wanting MORE!" Not that I had ever worn eye makeup or been any closer to a boy than my stand partner in orchestra. But still, it was valuable information.
Jessica Burgess
Clearly Unedited A few years after that, I graduated to buying my own copies of the magazines whose shiny advertisements taught me that to perform such basic grooming tasks as applying body lotion or deodorant, you needed to have a flat, muscular stomach and large chest. Otherwise (the message was unspoken, but clear), you might as well have dry skin and be stinky.
The economics of the situation are sobering. If we assume that I have purchased 13 issues of each magazine per year (including the special "All About Men!" offerings that are at least 0.08 percent different than a regular issue) at an average cover price of $4, that means that, over time, I have spent the equivalent of a down payment to a plastic surgeon for a larger chest. But at least I always knew the "Important Questions to Ask Your Gyno."
Then, a couple of months ago, while reading "101 Ways to Drive the Drunk Guy You Picked Up Last Night Wild," I realized that I might not quite be in the Cosmo/Glamour demographic anymore. Because the article that would truly be useful to me would be called "101 Ways to Convince Him That You Unloaded the Dishwasher Last Time and Now It's His Turn."
After sampling several other magazines, including GQ (I think it might be for boys – did you know?), Family Circle (I'm not that emotionally dead yet), Highlights for Children (too complicated) and Weight Watchers (seriously, how does the Duchess maintain that impressive loss?), I finally settled on O, The Oprah Magazine, which is easy to find in the grocery store racks, because for all of Oprah's fortune, she apparently cannot afford to pay any non-Oprah cover models.
The content is good stuff, geared toward a mature-but-not-quite- buried woman like me. For example, Dr. Phil's column this month explains how to confront your husband about his steamy IM conversation with an ex-girlfriend. Dr. Phil's approach is different than mine, which would involve a fireplace poker. So it's good to have different perspectives.
But old habits die hard. "Are you buying that?" my boyfrusband asked as I tried to sneak this month's Cosmo into the grocery basket.
"I need it for research," I said. "I'm writing a column about how I don't read these magazines anymore."
Jessica achieves her dramatic daytime eyes by not getting enough sleep. E-mail her at jburgess@quickdfw.com.
