Thursday, 20 August 2009

Guilty Pleasures

I try to walk past but I can't. My head whirls round with the speed and agility of the girl in the exorcist movie. I tiptoe across the supermarket aisle, hopeful that I won't be seen. My eyes flick over the titles, drinking in the celeb updates! Hot new fashion! The tips to make you cellulite free in 5 mins! The scandal! The NOOZE! Before I know it my addiction has me fully in it's grasp and I am hungrily, nay, ravenously drinking in all the frothy information dressed up as journalism.

Trash mags. I know they are wrong: fawning over stick thin fame chasing B listers who haven't a brain cell to rub between them; endlessly trying to pit women against women (who wore it best? Who is TOO FAT! - next week - TOO THIN!); focusing on inane subjects such as the merry-go-round of incestuous celebrity love lives and generally making us all feel that bit worse about ourselves, not to mention a bit well... dirty. Like we need a good hour in the tub to scrub off all that glee at clocking that the rich and famous still have problems, just like us civilians.

I pour over photos debating have they/have they not had surgery? Try to quell my house envy when so and so invites us to their palatial 3rd holiday home in Miami. I lust after shoes that I would never have the opportunity to wear in a million years but oh my god - I want them! I read about special machines that would turn me into 'an A lister body' if I re-mortgaged my house and could then afford two treatments on them. Time flies by and the check out assistant begins to cough to let me know that I had better stop fingering the goods and cough up some dough.

I can't buy them though - that would mean admitting to reading them. Something I am not prepared to do. I stuff them back on the shelf and walk quickly away from the scene of my crime. If anyone asks - trash mags, you read 'em?



Melissa said...

Do what I do ... log onto this website: completely inocuous, downright geeky, but check the fourth tab ... "gossip" which takes to the awfully guilty pleasure inducing site "The Superficial."

Under the guise of geekologie, no one will ever know. :)

thegirlwho said...

You know I am the exact same way. And God forbid I ever subscribe to them and save money. Let the mailman see what I read? NEVER! I have a new racket going though now that I'm trying to save money. All the girls at work pile 'em up on my desk when they're done. Now I read for free!

Hair Bows & Guitar Picks said...

I love magazine too. People is my favorite! I will let the person behind me skip in front of me sometimes just to finish flipping thru it.

mizkylie said...

What a fabulous blog! I lover your writing! I entered the contest as well and I have the same guilty pleasure as you, I voted for you because you wrote it soooo well:)

winder. (w─źne - der) said...

I love them so much that my resume actually lists fashion magazines under my interests. I can't get away from them, and you're right, they're like crack. And as addictive as some Perez can be, there's something so much more divine about the colors of the year, platforms none of us could ever wear, dresses that would fit my effing thigh, in high gloss, heavy weight paper that makes it that much more incredible. I am a vogue whore. I can spot a Chanel knockoff at fifteen paces. I took The Devil Wears Prada a little to seriously. But seriously. You hit that nail on the head, lady. Nicely done.