THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, July 1, 1994 TAG: 9407010618
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JENNIFER DZIURA, TEENOLOGY COLUMNIST
LENGTH: Long : 156 lines
WHAT MAKES A good magazine? What is it that causes Details to be torn off the shelves while Nature Enthusiast Quarterly is noticed only by a small child who uses its cover to dispose of his chewing gum, leaving a pink wad just above the picture of the blue jay?
Some of us, it seems, quiver at the prospect of long editorials about free elections in South Africa; other teens look forward to the next issue of Modern Mascara, hoping for glossy photos of Luke Perry to paste in their lockers.
Obviously, all of the ``teen'' publications being sold at your local Food Lion must have something to them or they wouldn't have lasted beyond the depletion of the creator's trust fund.
In evaluating teen-oriented magazines, I took note of the frequency of informative or thought-provoking articles, the percentage of the magazine usurped by ads, and whether the magazine gives the impression that it was created by Heidi Fleiss, well-educated college students or George Bush on a high-fiber diet. My analysis follows:
ESSENCE - Before reading Essence, a magazine targeted toward African-American women, I was unaware that the word ``plum'' could be used as an adjective, aside from its usage as a color. Essence, however, discusses ``plum film roles.'' Perhaps I live in a box or something, but I haven't the slightest idea as to what makes a film role ``plum'' or ``not plum.''
Aside from this, however, the June issue of Essence features articles about pesticide safety, ritual female genital mutilation, child death in Africa, and homophobia dividing the Black community. Overall, I would say that while 50 percent of the magazine is usurped by advertisements (an overwhelming number of them promoting hair care products), the other 50 percent is worth reading.
SASSY - The aura of this publication is captured in a databit on Page 16 titled ``How are Birkenstocks supposed to fit?''
Sassy sports reader-written poetry, an advice column written by a male, and movie reviews rated on a system in which ``Caviar on a Carr's Water Biscuit'' is a great honor, while ``Deer brains on a Saltine'' is not.
Sassy's willingness to confront thought-provoking issues is impressive for a publication of its genre. (After all, if what you really wanted was intellectual stimulation, you'd read U.S. News and World Report, where, unlike Sassy, one is unlikely to note any colloquial use of the word ``draggy.'') The June issue featured a story about girls locked up in crackpot mental institutions because their parents just didn't feel like dealing with them.
Sassy was only 33 percent advertisements, which means that you have to look at Christy Turlington a lot less than if you were to read, say, Cosmo.
INSIDE EDGE - The cover of the very first edition of this male-oriented magazine promises, in this order, articles about sex, partying, sports, going to jail as a result of partying, and working out. Inside Edge features (as a public service?) the Ten Sex Commandments, such as ``Thou shalt wear a condom'' and ``Thou shalt not bruise.''
In reading Inside Edge, an unenlightened male could pick up such useful knowledge as how to help one's best bud get women, what type of car makes one feel most manly and what could happen if one attempts to cure one's own venereal diseases with common household items. The magazine also sported a column rating sports shoes, saying things such as ``I felt the binding and tongue were a bit too restrictive for the instep.''
My personal favorite was a regular feature designed to inform the reader about which movies have the best sex scenes. The writer responsible for this begins his analysis with: ``When I go to see a movie, I expect a sex scene. I don't care if it doesn't have anything to do with the plot - any plot that doesn't revolve around sex is totally unrealistic anyway.''
Inside Edge was only 19 percent advertising, which makes one wonder if its editors are trafficking in illegal substances to keep their underfunded little publication alive.
DETAILS - This magazine is like steroids. Testosterone virtually emanates from its pages. One of the first articles in the June issue involves forbidden sexual practices in the Middle Ages. Not too many pages later is a data-bit about virtual reality sex, complete with pictures. Then, there is a narrative about a man employed in much the same way that Julia Roberts was in ``Pretty Woman.''
The most fetching thing about the entire publication is a large centerfoldlike Marlboro ad of a man's (presumably a cowboy's) denim-clad butt. In the back pocket of the man's jeans is a brochure offering such manly products as Marlboro shave bags, cowhide wallets and huge brass belt buckles sporting the legend ``I smell like carcinogenic chemicals and cough a lot. I'm a real man now.''
Details was only 32 percent advertising, and if you, as a guy, are the type who feels that bowling shoes and seersucker are high fashion, perhaps you would care to read this magazine. Just don't leave it where your mother might find it.
SEVENTEEN - If Sassy were a food, it might have been a dish of lasagna. If Seventeen were a food, it would be a piece of chalky pink candy that had been behind your dresser since Halloween six years ago. The aura of this magazine is epitomized by a letter in the June issue, reading ``Thank you for featuring sexy Joey Lawrence. . . ''
Seventeen advocates the wearing of little girl barrettes and frilly socks, and most of the magazine was pink and smelled like perfume. This issue featured the ``10 Sexiest Guys,'' all of whom were white and looked like stand-ins for the New Kids on the Block.
What surprised me, though, was an intelligent piece about life among Bosnian refugees and the apathy of American youth. I tried to reconcile this with the magazine's monthly quota of articles in which completely innocent and nice-looking young girls are subjected to the torturous ritual known as the ``make over,'' where a total stranger does mean things to them, like yank at their eyelashes. I have one theory about how this could happen.
I think Seventeen has a night staff and a day staff. The day staffers arrive at work promptly, wearing sweaters from J. Crew. They write about national events and speculate about the economy. After dark, the evil night staffers break in and stealthily type articles about the best way to fix one's hair for the prom and about ``makeup inspired by subtle shades of metallic silver, like a car from the Jetsons.''
The magazine is 46 percent ads, which I find excessive. I would recommend that a person read Seventeen only if stuck in a doctor's waiting room with a choice between it and Arthritis Today.
COSMOPOLITAN - OK, maybe I'm stretching it just a little bit. Cosmo isn't exactly intended for teenagers, but I thought its inclusion in this article was justifiable because many young people read it.
Cosmopolitan is an astounding 53 percent ads, meaning that more than half its bulk is aimed at burning Christy Turlington's image into the reader's brain. The first real article in the June issue is a narrative by a women whose health-food crazed lover left her and who is now seeing a man who serenaded her at ``Gus's Greasy Spoon.''
I wouldn't buy Cosmopolitan. In fact, I would sooner purchase Tomato Growers' Weekly. I might, however, use the magazine to swat flies while standing in the checkout line buying tomato seeds.
The June issue featured Rita Rudner's guide to men, replete with such witticisms as ``Men who have been in prison will usually get up very early.'' This data-bit format is typical of Cosmo, as if the creators don't quite expect their readers to be literate, and thus feel it necessary to write long lists or isolated paragraphs and space them far apart, leaving abundant room for cute little drawings.
The magazine did boast one thought-provoking story: ``The Decline and Rise of Bigotry.'' Unfortunately, it was between an item about soap opera star ``hunks'' and one titled ``What It Takes to Be a Flight Attendant.''
GLAMOUR - This magazine sported not one, not two, but five of those perfume advertisements with the smelly little strips of perfume.
Had I been able to get within 5 feet of Glamour, I might have read it and then denounced it as trashy or vacuous, but as of now, I can advise you to purchase it only if your car needs air freshening. Even then, I suggest you leave the magazine in the glove compartment so the smell doesn't overpower you.
Out of all the magazines I investigated, Details was the most fun to read, although it's a men's magazine and I'm female. Seventeen is now turning a healthy shade of brown in my fireplace. I would use Glamour as firewood also, but I'm afraid it might induce some dangerous chemical reaction due to the abundance of alcohol-laden perfume samples. Overall, however, the youth of American would be better served by hitting themselves in the face with a brick than by reading most of the junk at the magazine stand.
by CNB