cathairtumbleweeds: marleymarley: Ok. I can explain. About a brazillian years ago, I was a beauty-mag junkie. It started when I was very young - I couldn’t have been older than 8 or 9 when my sister started getting Seventeen magazine. I remember sneaking into her room at odd hours of the night to steal her mags and go read them on the floor in the bathroom. Over the years I was, for reasons which confound me now, so keen to know *everything* I could about health and beauty stuff. Why I didn’t become an aesthetician of some sort I truly don’t understand. At any rate, about - I don’t know - maybe two years ago, maybe three, I began to lose interest. I had been finding that there truly was nothing new under the sun, and that the same information was just being recycled and presented in updated packages. I had been listening to the same ‘experts’ talking about the newest, greatest things that were going to change my life over and over again for too many years to count. I now realized they are all frauds crying wolf. I finally got around to canceling my subscriptions a little while ago, and the final issues of the various magazines are now in a pile on my desk, untouched. I refuse to get rid of them until I’ve searched through them at least a little bit to glean something of value. But honestly, I don’t know if I can stomach it. THEY’RE SO FUCKING FOUL. Guh. This has been March’s edition of ‘Getting to know Marley.’ Join us next month when we develop theories about why I am incapable of removing the laundry from the dryer before enormous creases form in all of my clothing. One of my New Year’s Resolutions this year was to cancel my subscriptions to ALL my ladies and gossip rags. Fashion, fitness, whatever, gone. All that happens when I read a lady mag is: I feel unattractive I feel fat I feel poor because I can’t afford any of the clothes I feel like the world is full of idiots and I am ashamed to be a woman. All that How To Please Your Man crap is just so sad and desperate-sounding. When I read a “woman’s” magazine like the ones you mentioned, the horror/curiosity I feel is much like the emotions I experience when I drive past  a car crash. cathairtumbleweeds: marleymarley: Ok. I can explain. About a brazillian years ago, I was a beauty-mag junkie. It started when I was very young - I couldn’t have been older than 8 or 9 when my sister started getting Seventeen magazine. I remember sneaking into her room at odd hours of the night to steal her mags and go read them on the floor in the bathroom. Over the years I was, for reasons which confound me now, so keen to know *everything* I could about health and beauty stuff. Why I didn’t become an aesthetician of some sort I truly don’t understand. At any rate, about - I don’t know - maybe two years ago, maybe three, I began to lose interest. I had been finding that there truly was nothing new under the sun, and that the same information was just being recycled and presented in updated packages. I had been listening to the same ‘experts’ talking about the newest, greatest things that were going to change my life over and over again for too many years to count. I now realized they are all frauds crying wolf. I finally got around to canceling my subscriptions a little while ago, and the final issues of the various magazines are now in a pile on my desk, untouched. I refuse to get rid of them until I’ve searched through them at least a little bit to glean something of value. But honestly, I don’t know if I can stomach it. THEY’RE SO FUCKING FOUL. Guh. This has been March’s edition of ‘Getting to know Marley.’ Join us next month when we develop theories about why I am incapable of removing the laundry from the dryer before enormous creases form in all of my clothing. One of my New Year’s Resolutions this year was to cancel my subscriptions to ALL my ladies and gossip rags. Fashion, fitness, whatever, gone. All that happens when I read a lady mag is: I feel unattractive I feel fat I feel poor because I can’t afford any of the clothes I feel like the world is full of idiots and I am ashamed to be a woman. All that How To Please Your Man crap is just so sad and desperate-sounding. When I read a “woman’s” magazine like the ones you mentioned, the horror/curiosity I feel is much like the emotions I experience when I drive past  a car crash.

cathairtumbleweeds:

marleymarley:

Ok. I can explain.

About a brazillian years ago, I was a beauty-mag junkie. It started when I was very young - I couldn’t have been older than 8 or 9 when my sister started getting Seventeen magazine. I remember sneaking into her room at odd hours of the night to steal her mags and go read them on the floor in the bathroom. Over the years I was, for reasons which confound me now, so keen to know *everything* I could about health and beauty stuff. Why I didn’t become an aesthetician of some sort I truly don’t understand.

At any rate, about - I don’t know - maybe two years ago, maybe three, I began to lose interest. I had been finding that there truly was nothing new under the sun, and that the same information was just being recycled and presented in updated packages. I had been listening to the same ‘experts’ talking about the newest, greatest things that were going to change my life over and over again for too many years to count. I now realized they are all frauds crying wolf.

I finally got around to canceling my subscriptions a little while ago, and the final issues of the various magazines are now in a pile on my desk, untouched. I refuse to get rid of them until I’ve searched through them at least a little bit to glean something of value. But honestly, I don’t know if I can stomach it.

THEY’RE SO FUCKING FOUL. Guh.

This has been March’s edition of ‘Getting to know Marley.’ Join us next month when we develop theories about why I am incapable of removing the laundry from the dryer before enormous creases form in all of my clothing.

One of my New Year’s Resolutions this year was to cancel my subscriptions to ALL my ladies and gossip rags. Fashion, fitness, whatever, gone. All that happens when I read a lady mag is:

I feel unattractive

I feel fat

I feel poor because I can’t afford any of the clothes

I feel like the world is full of idiots and I am ashamed to be a woman. All that How To Please Your Man crap is just so sad and desperate-sounding.

When I read a “woman’s” magazine like the ones you mentioned, the horror/curiosity I feel is much like the emotions I experience when I drive past  a car crash.

  1. embraceyourbody reblogged this from chronically-awesome and added:
    When I read a “woman’s” magazine like the ones you mentioned, the horror/curiosity I feel is much like the emotions I...
  2. beeborg said: i know it’ silly, but to this day, my method of unwinding is to read Allure, In Style, Vogue, or Elle while taking a bath. I don’t know how this tradition started & have no idea if it will end.
  3. chronically-awesome reblogged this from marleymarley and added:
    One of my New Year’s Resolutions this year...gossip rags. Fashion, fitness, whatever,...
  4. gorillasushi said: Those magazines don’t know a thing about real beauty.