The blessed event that is the September fashion magazines weighs in at 12 pounds this year. In my world that's qunituplets. The fashionable five are Vogue at 800 pages, Harper's Bazaar at 584, Elle at 528, Marie Claire at 316 and Glamour, the runt of the litter, at 304 pages.
The health of a magazine is determined by its number of pages, signifying many or fewer ads. Could you hear the clink of glasses down at Conde Nast as they toasted easily besting all rivals (especially Harper's Bazaar)? Things may not have been as happy at Glamour.
I haven't looked inside yet. I must Do Certain Things First (like get dressed and feed the cats), but my fingers are itching.
There are those who feel there will still be nothing for a WOACA* to wear. That's a good possibility. By what I've seen in preview, there may be nothing for anyone to wear. Style seems to be going through a meat grinder right now. What interests me most in the magazines is seeing how events and culture play into our notions of beauty and fashion.
And maybe finding one or two things to buy.
*Woman of a Certain Age
