they plump when you cook 'em!

getplump
Originally uploaded by margrocks.

i love this ad. makes me giggle and steam. giggle b/c i love the word plump. don't you? say it with me:

plump.

it evokes something juicy, nutritious, wholesome, and real. like gramma's sunday roast chicken - an ample breast and plenty of meat on her bones. there's room in the word plump for you to be you. like you could nestle down into gramma plump's sofa and nap after dinner. skinny, however, has nooooo vacancy. you sleep on the stoop, and if you're lucky, they'll toss you a little celery.

call me plump, however, and i'm liable to break down in tears.

but i don't want to be plump, i want to be skinny!!!

ugh. i'm annoying.

the ad makes me steam, b/c it illustrates so clearly that these "standards" that have been set up for us, that we have adhered to for years like some sort of bizarre religion are a bunch of hooey! malarkey! balderdash! bunk. and, if ya notice, they change. how can we ever keep up? we can't, my darlings. that's the point. we just keep buying and buying and buying, then, just when we think we've gotten "there," the "there" changes. is this what's meant by the old bait and switch? just ways for mr. olgivy and meyer and his brethren to make a buck. same sell (you are not enough), different product (slender, plump, toned - whatever you are or have not).

so, in recognition of this (i've known i should for years, but now that i'm complaining about it publicly, i suppose i should actually do it. it's so much easier to talk about it from up here in Morally Superior Land though. this "by example" stuff is for the birds), i'm cancelling all of my magazine subscriptions. well, not all of them. just the glossily bound physical manifestations of self-hatred that arrive monthly on my doorstep. you know, the girly mags that shout in a sickeningly sweet bright pink font -

A NEW YEAR, A NEW YOU!

GET THE BOY OF YOUR DREAMS IN 1 WEEK!

HOW TO GET THE PERFECT SKIN!

GET A BIKINI-READY BODY IN 5 DAYS!

(i wonder...do all of the women who work at these Bonnie Fuller-ized magazines always talk in multiple exclamation points!!!!??? must be the fen-phen.)

even Yoga Journal is getting da boot. i'm fed up w/ the whole new-age marketing racket. who, after all, needs yoga toes for $50? or a limited edition bronze sculpture of a woman doing downward facing dog? nuh-uh. the chicks on the cover? often blond haired, blue-eyed, size 4, zen-like perfection. it's the same shit that's in Vogue, just a different product wrapped up in sacred windchimes, vegan carob truffles, and pink organic hemp ribbon died with wild raspberry juice.

i'm not saying my issue (and many women's issue) with these magazines is Betty Ford-worthy, but it's a form of addiction. according to The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition, an addiction is defined as: The condition of being habitually or compulsively occupied with or or involved in something. bingo. the feeling i get when i see InStyle on my front stoop feels too good to be good, especially when it ultimately makes me feel so bad.

confession: i'm not going cold turkey. i'm just not renewing their subscriptions. soon, the only mail that will grace my stoop will be bills from verizon, flyers from macy's, and the quarterly newsletter from camp merrie-woode, a camp i went to once, when i was 13. i still get them. filled with announcements like these:

mary-catherine boudreaux (nee dupont) and her husband, trip, welcome a bouncing new baby boy, william terrace boudreaux IV. big sister mary-dupont, who is 3-years old, is tickled pink to have a new baby brother!

like any 12 step program says, ya gotta replace the substance (drugs, booze, sex, cigarettes) with something else. otherwise, when you encounter the giant hole of emptiness that's left behind after you kick your addiction to the curb, you're gonna be scared, lonely, and much more likely to open the door and invite it back in. this time, it'll probably bring friends (and they have serious b.o.)

so, i gotta fill my mail slot with mags that will nourish my noggin, my body, my belly. granted, they'll still have ads. short of not reading any magazines ever, i'm not sure i can get away from them completely. (i work at a media company - it's not happening.) but at least they won't make me passionately hate my person. the only passion i'll feel will be for the candy apple red AGA oven range featured in the latest issue of Saveur. i hear it makes great roast chicken...plump.

____

so here's my planned mag replacements, so far...

BUST Magazine - the only magazine that encourages us to be beautiful, smart, and tough. please, if you guys know of any others, let me know!

The New Yorker - i just feel smarter carrying it. this and a blue + white cup of Greek diner coffee are the quintessential new yorker accessories.

Readymade Magazine - very groovy, do-it-yourself design mag. my only beef is that all of the models look like i'm-so-hip-it-hurts williamsburg, brooklynites.

Domino - a new budget design magazine.

Cooks Illustrated - a gift from J + S - very scientific cooking magazine. stay tuned: i'm baking the oatmeal, dried cherry, bittersweet chocolate chip cookies tomorrow. stop by around 4 w/ a jug of organic skim milk, and you might have a new friend.

Elle Decor British Edition - this is a dream. i can't afford it now (it's like $170 dollars or something ridiculous), but it's so much cooler than the US Elle Decor. US EC is weenie; UK EC is wowza.

and maybe, in memory of my mother (who, by the way, never bought girly magazines):

Southern Living - who, after all, doesn't need another recipe for pineapple-mayonnaise frozen salad?