The fat glossy stack passed through the mail slot and hit the floor with a pronounced whomp. I got up to investigate and found, sitting underneath junk mail and a wedding invitation, a copy of Brides Magazine. I doubt my betrothed friends sent this. I love practical jokes, so I appreciate the humor of the mysterious sender. $6 well spent.
I avoid women’s magazines like Vogue and Glamour, sister mags of Brides Magazine. Flipping through those glossy, airbrushed pages is like diving into a strange world populated with painfully expensive shoes, clothing and bad sex advice. Brides Magazine touts the same format, just switch out career and sex advice for floral arrangements and wedding budget. (I bet if I read a glossy mom’s mag I would find eerie similarities. Substitute advice on placating temperamental bosses with experts on fussy babies. Dating, marriage, babies. Glamour, Brides, Mother & Baby. A magazine for every chapter of a woman’s life!)
After a long day I sat down with some tea and a pen, ready to ink my snark onto the pages. Near the end I found an ad that flooded a history lesson into my brain… Continue reading