I’ve known for quite some time that I have a bit of an obsession with magazines. I have stacks of them in every room of my house. On more than one occasion, I have caught my husband trying to recycle my overabundance of glossies and have had a slight freakout… “I HAVEN’T FINISHED THAT ONE YET!” Admittedly, it has reached epic proportions and I’m trying to get better about purging.
But I get so much inspiration from magazines. Fashion, cooking, decorating, design, self-help… you name it and I buy it. Fashion mags are my favorite. I love the photography and the fun, blurby-type writing: “Tame Your Tresses in 10 Easy Steps!”. I am constantly ripping pages out that speak to me. Poses, color combinations, moods, style. I tape them to my inspiration wall or use them in my art journal.
It occurred to me recently that I have always had this love of magazines. I can remember being 10 years old and skimming through my mother’s Good Housekeepings. I loved the ad photography and had pages of sketches of the models. I couldn’t resist drawing the heavily mascara’d lashes and the shiny, thick hair. I guess that was the beginning of my love of painting faces.
I also have a vivid memory of the first time I saw an issue of Elle Magazine. I was in high school and at yearbook camp in Santa Barbara, CA. My roommate was from a school in LA and she seemed so glamorous to me with her long, straight blond hair and her fabulous fashion magazines. I was from a small town and still sporting the 80s perm so her straight hair was particularly fascinating to me.
She let me look through all her magazines and I was mesmerized. The photography was magnificent and it was all so sophisticated to me. She gave me one of the subscription cards and I was so excited to get my own issue every month straight to my front door. I cherished those magazines. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but now I know I was desiring the great big world and wanting to take a bite out of life. These magazines were a window to possibility for me.
So now when I look around at my stacks of glossy periodicals I actually have a deeper appreciation for them. They were my world-wide-web before it actually existed. For a little girl from a small desert town, they were a way to dream.
I still love to dream and I still love those moments when I can sit down with a coffee, a quiet morning and a fresh fashion mag. Pure and complete enjoyment.