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I remember the days when I would sit in my BFF’s bedroom and sift through her Seventeen Magazines trying to find some fashion trend or dating advice that would boost my self esteem.  If only I did my hair this way, wore a certain brand of  skirt, or applied make up correctly I could get a boyfriend, skyrocket out of the depths of nerdom and into realm of high school popularity.  It never happened and I graduated high school wearing the same pair of jeans I bought sophomore year and donning the same up-do that I had perfected in elementary school on my way to gymnastics meets.  More importantly, I graduated from Seventeen and Teen People to the more sophisticated Vogue, Cosmo, and Redbook.

In my naive brain, college would be the time where I would find myself and become hip.  These are the typical and downright unachievable goals of every college female.  It’s unrealistic to think that you can enjoy your interests while succumbing to the fashion trends of the entire nation.  Yet Cosmo made me think it was possible.  Not only would I have the power to help save the whales because I was one of seven sorority pledges into saving the planet’s waning eco-system, but could also do it in Lucky Jeans and a trendy Ann Taylor sweater.  Ha!  Cosmo also made me believe that I could afford such items which their retail schenangans of “These jeans cost $300….BUT these Lucky’s only cost $120.” Which somehow makes you feel as if you got a deal on a few pieces of fabric that cost half of your part-time paycheck.

I finally awoke from my magazine fog and realized that it is not just these contradictions and retail ploys that make me hate these magazines so much.  My contempt stems from multiple forms.  For purposes of this blog I have tried to narrow them down.  Here they are: 5 Reasons Why I Dislike Cosmo Magazine*.

1.  Be Yourself/Fit in with the Rest of America.

In any given edition, Cosmo features dating and fashion advice.  The two never mix.  On page 24 you’ll read:  “Boys will like you if you show them you have your own passions and desires.” and on page 124 you’ll find this advice:
“Be sure to wear yellow (it looks good on a first date!) and  everyone is wearing yellow this year.”

What?  No.  This specific advice is the reason why I spent half of my college years wearing Guess Jeans and attempting to talk  indie bands with Frat Boys I had nicknamed “Blue Lacoste Polo,” “Pink Lacoste Polo,” and “Yellow Lacoste Polo.”  Face it Cosmo, individuality and name brands don’t mix.

2.  Relationship Advice that only breeds insecurity.

Harsh?  Yes.  True?  Of course.  If you skim the pages of Cosmo’s website you will see articles with the following titles:

• Why Guys Dump Girls They Dig
• 8 Hints He’s a Player
• The Body Language of Liars
• Why Guys Cheat in the Summer
• What He’s Hiding From You

Not only are you feeding into the insecurities that all women have, but you’re essentially telling us to snoop, be suspicious, and that in all actuality my boyfriend is probably cheating on me.  Why? Why do you do this Cosmo?  I can only assume that so we break up and then move from seeking advice in your “Relationship” section to your “Dating Section.”  Which is number three on the list: Their Dating Advice.

3.  Inane Dating Advice

While rifling through How to Rock a First Date, I came across this little gem of advice:

Mirror neurons respond to sounds as well, so experiment with matching your cadence and tone to his. For example, if he speaks faster than you do, accelerate your tempo a bit.

Yep. In this article they tell you that echoing a man helps trigger his attraction towards you.  I tried it.  The guy was Australian so I mimicked an Australian accent.  We hit it off and I spent the next three months pretending I was from Perth.  Thanks Cosmo.  I bagged the guy, but it was all based in lies.

4. I can’t understand your hair advice.

Do a fishtail braid: Divide your hair in half, and hold the left side in your left hand and right side in your right hand. Pull a half-inch section of hair from the outside of the right side and add it to the inside of the left side. Repeat with a piece from the outside of the left side, adding it to the inside of the right side. Continue adding half-inch pieces down to your ends, and secure with an elastic.

Is there an instruction manual?  Or how about a step by step picture process because I am hair challenged and for the life of me I cannot visualize how to make a fishtail braid from these instructions.  Also, please refrain from attempting to sell me products through these articles.  Like when you say

Finish with a mist of lightweight hair spray that’ll give you extra hold minus any stickiness. We like Paul Mitchell Worked Up, $14.95.

How about, “Finish with whatever hair spray you have in your medicine cabinet and maybe some old gel you have lying around from the 80s.” I can do that and it won’t cost me $15 bucks in hair care products I’ll use just this once!

5.  I can’t tell the Difference between the Articles and the Advertisements.

Seriously!  Are you promoting Louis Vuitton or is this an actual piece  on Handbags.  I can’t tell.  Nail advice or just an ad for Salley Hansen?  I fear this exchange:

Me: “Like my jelly bracelet?  Cosmo said they’re are back in style so I wore one today.”

My Friend: “Um…that’s a Nuva Ring.”

Please better define the difference between your ads and your articles.  Many a times I’m reading the beginning to an interview with Jennifer Aniston and I turn the page and end up finishing by reading the possible side effects of whatever diet pill you decided to let buy ad space.

After Marley and Me, Aniston took some time off to experience (turns the page) bloating, cramping, and the ocasional vomit.

Not only is it annoying right then and there, but if I wanted to finish the article I would have to dig through the back of your maginze to find page 210.   Yet you’re editors decided to reinvent the 1000 year old concept of “Table of Contence” by number only 1/3 of your pages.   210 wasn’t  numbered so I wasted another 10 minutes finding page 202 (which was numbered) and counting foward to 210.   While doing so I am forced to dig through second-rate ads for dollar store pimple cream and personalized thongs.  As I stop for a moment to ponder “whether or not I want to draw this bear to see if I have the talent for art school” I realize something:  I hate this whole process.  Here is how I now read your articles Cosmo:

Magazine: It would be another 15 years before [insert big name movie star here] would return to the stage because of her  continued on page 194.

Me: Well I guess I’ll never know.

*Note that I just use Cosmo as an example, but it can be interchanged with any female driven magazine out there.

Also:  Feel free to e-mail me with your thoughts or leave comments.  I would love to do interactive pieces with some of the readers of this blog!

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