It is Friday. Those who know me of old, know that Friday is magazine night, the night I sit down with a bar of ameretto chocolate and a small pile of scrumptious inspiration.
Or at least it used to be. Lately mgazines just aren’t exciting me anymore and I’m darned if I knew why: Is it because some of my old faves have died and gone to heaven? (R.I.P: Mary Englebreit, Eve and Domino) or is it because after seventeen years of devouring every column inch of almost every lifestyle and interiors magazine on the market, I’m all magazined out: too familiar with sales pitch disguised as editorial? Exhausted by images of homes tittified into never never land?
Or, and oh yes, there is a shudder running down my spine, is it because of the huge explosion of gorgeous blogs, resplendant with real life interiors and instant access to all that is heart breakingly delicious?
It’s a worry. I dont want to curl up on the sofa with a glass of wine and my laptop. I want to open the kind of magazine that used to make me feel like sealing the house shut so no-one could disturb the joy that was revealing the delights of this months edition of Country Living or Vogue or Martha…
Is it just me? Am I the Victor Meldrew of magazine moaning? Am I missing out on anything fabulous? Is the magazine industry dying on it’s feet? Are we to blame? What’s your favorite magazine? Why do you love it? Does it still make you feel like locking your family in a cupboard for the pure unadulterated pleasure of it?
So many questions, I rather wish you would answer if you please…
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