Saturday, July 17, 2010

in which vogue is dumb

So maybe you read the title of this post and think I'm dumb for reading Vogue.  But GWYNETH was on the cover.  And I like her and how's she's super fancy and does fancy people things and wears fancy people clothes and travels and cooks and exercises and I really enjoy several of her films and have you even seen Spain...On the Road Again with Gwyneth "Gogo" Paltrow??  Because she totally speaks Spanish pretty okay and eats stuff and everything.  And it's just a plain, good, grand-old-farts-out entertaining show about food and travelling.

And big old fatty Mario Batali is there! GP and MB are BFFS!
He's like the fat clock from Beauty and the Beast!  What's not to love!?


Instead of just looking at the pictures, I made the mistake of reading some of what they are pretending is writing in the magazine.  I feel like it's a joke that that nobody told me.  Or they told me finally and it wasn't funny at all.  And things that aren't funny aren't jokes.  They're just things people say.  And most of what people say is probably self-interested or boring.  Or it's like if a bunch of middle schoolers got together to write something, but they don't know anything and have no lives or experiences of which to speak, so instead they just write (poorly) about themselves and how great they are.

Too be fair, I interned at two magazines and I learned you can't actually write anything about what you're thinking, since you're supposed to compliment everything and/or sort of write about things as though you need to get them to buy them.  But you know what?  I'm not Peggy Olson.  I'm not selling popsicles or lipstick.
And I get that the dumb old advertisers make you say nice things about them, but it's total hamswallop that I would have to write about some nasty beauty cookie or ugly shirt just because some editor's friend made it and wants to sell it.  And what's more, in Vogue - the most complimentary articles are when people aren't even writing about things or other people - it's themselves!!  They think they're the best.  And they're not.

They're not Peggy Olson out on the town being all snazzy and sitting on an old man's laps.
The point is.  These people who write for this magazine are adult people who are supposedly writers.  However, whenever a writer writes their article, they generally mention how they're not a writer OR how writing is their new "career" since they can no longer model or act because they're old.  And then the articles are just about their own problems, which is fine, I guess - if I wanted to read someone's dumb old journal.  Then they only mention other people so as to let the reader know all the rich & famous people they know.  Not even to relate a mildly amusing anecdote about any of them!  

And without fail they always mention how they had a party or a dinner so they can bring up how they decided to spice things up and invite a "normal" person - or normy - like an academic type or an art historian or some other garbage.  And they have nothing nice or interesting to say about that person - they'll mention how they're quiet - and they only bring them up to point out how at some point during the evening the normy would just stop eating/talking/whatevering to just look around and admire how everyone was else was so zany/bohemian/politically/hilarious/fascinating saying such zany/bohemian/politically/hilarious/fascinating things.

It's just rude and dull.  They think they're Gwyneth Paltrow in Emma and the normy is their infinite admirer, Mrs. Bates.

If the writers were really so wonderful, maybe they could write about wonderful things they did that are interesting, instead of writing about how wonderful and interesting they think they are.  And how everyone else thinks they are, too.

I'm sorry.  Sometimes I just get mad.  I just get so mad I could throw a bird out a window.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I noticed some Mad Men references in there. This is a fun post!