"Issues"

Recently, a magazine shop opened up in my neighborhood. The shop's name is "Issues." Seriously, I cannot think of anything more appropriate to describe my own magazine obsession. Ever since I was a kid, I have been into magazines. At the grocery store, I would beg my Mom for the latest issue of Mad Magazine or Archie and The Gang. Of course, those magazines are more like comic books, but still, that's where my fascination began. When I was about nine or ten years old, my grandparents were kind enough to get me my first subscription to a junior National Geographic magazine. I really looked forward to getting my own magazine each month in the mail. Unfortunately, I wasn't as captivated by the subject matter of that particular periodical. How could my grandparents have known that, at age eleven, I'd already grown tired of kids’ magazines and moved onto reading my Mom's Vogue? She always kept them piled next to her bed for night-time reading. I'd leaf through them, trying not to lose my Mom's place. At that time, I was mostly fascinated by the photography and fashion. I already had a habit of changing my outfit three or four times a day, dependent on my mood and the activity I was into. In other words, I had discovered fashion and Vogue only validated this new-found love for costuming myself in ridiculous outfits. Whether I paired a tutu with knee socks to dance around my room, or plaid pants, and a cowboy vest to roller skate in our apartment complex, Vogue made it all seem normal. Didn't everyone change clothes to suit their moods? My Mom was less enthused about this new development, since it meant my laundry basket was overflowing with my wardrobe cast-offs. In my early teens, the rest of my family realized that I was into fashion as well. My grandparents eventually upgraded my magazine subscription to Seventeen magazine—perhaps a bit more age appropriate then Vogue, I admit. I wasn't at all into the Tiger Beat and Teen Beat like all my girlfriends. I could care less about heartthrobs like Scott Baio, Corey Haims, and Corey Feldman. Maybe Johnny Depp, but otherwise I couldn't be bothered by those teen rags. I wanted to see beauty shots by Francesco Scavullo or an artful shot by Irving Penn. I even memorized all my favorite models in the editorials, including Rachel Williams, Linda Evangelista, Kate Moss, and Naomi Campbell. Eventually, I even outgrew Seventeen mag and asked my grandparents for an upgrade to Elle. Each month I would eagerly anticipate receiving my shiny new issue of Elle. First, I would browse the magazine from cover to cover, reading articles, and making mental notes of all the cool shots. The fashion shoots would often inspire a collage that I would plaster around my room like photographic wallpaper. I had a small area dedicated to Marilyn Monroe or Michael Jackson, but for the most part, I preferred to surround myself with the ever-changing trends Elle produced in its glossy pages. Remember day-glo anyone? The bright lips and bright eye shadow of the 80s? Or famous upper-lip moles? I loved these magazines so much, and fancied myself a writer (go figure), I finally decided I should create a magazine of my own. My Mom was a real wiz on the Macintosh. She was able to design a layout using a make-your-own newsletter template. It wouldn't be glossy or have gorgeous full color editorials, but it would suffice. I could use it as a forum to deliver my own fashion and beauty expertise. After all, I was fourteen and had so much information to share. Inspired by a French magazine called L'Officiel, I decided to name the publication, Premier. Once we had a name, we reached out to friends and family to subscribe to Premier magazine. We ended up with roughly twenty subscribers willing to support our new endeavor. All in all, we were able to crank out about six issues with articles ranging from the latest beauty secrets to horoscopes and advice. Did you know that you could use lemon juice to create summer highlights in your hair? Or use mayonnaise to condition it? We even had a recipe contest for all our readers to participate in. We published the winning recipe in the following month's edition. If I recall, my grandfather's brownie recipe was crowned the winner. Unfortunately, the pressure got to me and I threw in the towel. At fourteen, I had other pressing social issues to deal with and pumping out a newsletter turned out to be a bigger responsibility then I ever imagined. Anyway, it turned out to be good practice for my high school years when I joined the school newspaper. I brought my magazine ideas to the paper, convincing our journalism class to let me write and produce a two-page feature about the latest spring fashions. Years later, a national magazine called Premiere came on the market. Of course, the subject matter was different then my own Premier, but how cool? Even at fourteen, I knew that Premier was a perfect name for a magazine. I'd like to think I was ahead of my time. Since those early days, my magazine obsession has only grown stronger. I'm still a sucker for a new cover at the grocery store checkout. I'm the person reading a magazine in line, in front of you, instead of loading my groceries onto the conveyor belt. At home, I have stacks of magazines throughout the house, which probably drives my husband crazy. I save them because I love the cover shot, or I think I might want to refer back to an informative article. All my food-related magazines are shoved into the same cabinet as my cookbooks. I've even got two full boxes in my storage of back issues from Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, Interview, and Elle. I can't seem to get rid of them because I've already kept them this long, so what’s another twenty years? However this appears to some, it all seems perfectly sane to me. My Mom has kept all her issues of Vogue from the 70s. If she didn't save them, she never could have gifted my daughter her original, collectable copy with the first black cover girl Beverley Johnson on the cover. Of course, I will always love my fashion magazines, but as my life has evolved, I have become interested in magazines that reflect my other interests. Currently, I have several favorite food-related magazines as well as a few that are focused on mind, body, and soul. Of course, there are the parenting magazines I buy on occasion, magazines for the intellect such as the New Yorker, and even shallow gossip rags. Finally, what would I do without my craft and DIY magazines? I would have nothing to aspire to when it comes to home decor. This is why I can appreciate a store like Issues. I'm always looking for the next cool magazine. I'm like a kid in a candy store there. Wall-to-wall magazines? It’s almost too much for me to take. I have to limit my trips to the shop or else I'd be broke. I think there are probably others out there like me, but are they willing to come forward? A few in my office have openly shared their love of a good magazine. We even swap issues to save pennies and keep it green. So let’s see who else is out there, with stacks of magazines up to their eyeballs. I know I'm not alone!