We're Breaking Up
Dear Jane Magazine:
I was wondering if you all could do me an itty bitty little favor. Do you think you could maybe stop sending me that godawful trashrag you call a magazine every fucking month? I do not think this is too much to ask. After all, I haven't sent you guys a check since 2002. And yet month after month, you appear in my mailbox.
I tried to end things with you permanently last year. Remember that letter I sent your subscription department? The one where I listed all the things I hate about you, but in a politeish way? Well, apparently I didn't make myself clear. IT'S OVER BETWEEN US, JANE. Why? Oh I know you didn't just ask why. Do you need it spelled out? You do? All righty then, let's go.
1. You try too hard. Hey, you know what cool people never do? Tell everyone how cool they are. That may be why the hyper-self-aware, hipper-than-thou "oh my god can you believe how INTERESTING we are?!" attitude isn't so much working for you. Breathy little captions like, "Normally we'd never put someone so mainstream in our mag, but Paris is so out she's in!" I mean, seriously. Glamour may be vapid and pointless, but at least they have the dignity to own it.
2. Your "fashion spreads" are puke on a page. I do not care how many times you try to convince me that hotpants and green pumps with a granny sweater will give me "total street cred." I'm still not wearing it. Also not working for me: the underwear-as-pants look, birdnest hair, and barrettes made out of cigarette butts.
3. Feminism is not a dirty word. Call yourself the anti-Cosmo all you want, but you ain't walking the walk, Little Miss Be The Best In Bed. Yes, a magazine can girly and feminist at the same time. Read Bust to see how it's done.
4. Your interviews suck wind. Lindsay Lohan says her boobies are real! Paris Hilton dots her "i"s with little hearts! Wow, that's hard hitting stuff. Watch out, Baba Wawa!
5. Jane Pratt is a legend. But only in her own mind. The rest of us? Are more interested in the gum stuck to the bottom of our shoe. You can only ride Sassy so far, lady.
6. Name dropping is the lowest form of retardation. You "discovered" Chloe Sevigny? I don't think I would take credit for this if I were you. Also, I'd rather slip my feet into the gyno's stirrups every day for a year than page through another "celebrity" "produced" issue. Mischa Barton's Behind the O-sCenes Polaroids are not what I would call "compelling." Or "good." They kind of make my eyeballs bleed.
I could go on and on, but I think you see what I'm getting at here. We've grown apart. This relationship just isn't fulfilling for me anymore. I think we should see other people. Of course, this means you'll have to stop hanging around my house all the time. No more showing up on my doorstep at the first of the month, looking for some attention. I'm sure there are plenty of girls out there who will love you, but I can't do this anymore. Just ... please. Have some pride. Walk away. And always remember, Jane: it's not me, it's you.
Love,
Tequila Red
I was wondering if you all could do me an itty bitty little favor. Do you think you could maybe stop sending me that godawful trashrag you call a magazine every fucking month? I do not think this is too much to ask. After all, I haven't sent you guys a check since 2002. And yet month after month, you appear in my mailbox.
I tried to end things with you permanently last year. Remember that letter I sent your subscription department? The one where I listed all the things I hate about you, but in a politeish way? Well, apparently I didn't make myself clear. IT'S OVER BETWEEN US, JANE. Why? Oh I know you didn't just ask why. Do you need it spelled out? You do? All righty then, let's go.
1. You try too hard. Hey, you know what cool people never do? Tell everyone how cool they are. That may be why the hyper-self-aware, hipper-than-thou "oh my god can you believe how INTERESTING we are?!" attitude isn't so much working for you. Breathy little captions like, "Normally we'd never put someone so mainstream in our mag, but Paris is so out she's in!" I mean, seriously. Glamour may be vapid and pointless, but at least they have the dignity to own it.
2. Your "fashion spreads" are puke on a page. I do not care how many times you try to convince me that hotpants and green pumps with a granny sweater will give me "total street cred." I'm still not wearing it. Also not working for me: the underwear-as-pants look, birdnest hair, and barrettes made out of cigarette butts.
3. Feminism is not a dirty word. Call yourself the anti-Cosmo all you want, but you ain't walking the walk, Little Miss Be The Best In Bed. Yes, a magazine can girly and feminist at the same time. Read Bust to see how it's done.
4. Your interviews suck wind. Lindsay Lohan says her boobies are real! Paris Hilton dots her "i"s with little hearts! Wow, that's hard hitting stuff. Watch out, Baba Wawa!
5. Jane Pratt is a legend. But only in her own mind. The rest of us? Are more interested in the gum stuck to the bottom of our shoe. You can only ride Sassy so far, lady.
6. Name dropping is the lowest form of retardation. You "discovered" Chloe Sevigny? I don't think I would take credit for this if I were you. Also, I'd rather slip my feet into the gyno's stirrups every day for a year than page through another "celebrity" "produced" issue. Mischa Barton's Behind the O-sCenes Polaroids are not what I would call "compelling." Or "good." They kind of make my eyeballs bleed.
I could go on and on, but I think you see what I'm getting at here. We've grown apart. This relationship just isn't fulfilling for me anymore. I think we should see other people. Of course, this means you'll have to stop hanging around my house all the time. No more showing up on my doorstep at the first of the month, looking for some attention. I'm sure there are plenty of girls out there who will love you, but I can't do this anymore. Just ... please. Have some pride. Walk away. And always remember, Jane: it's not me, it's you.
Love,
Tequila Red
Tequila Red called it a day @ 11:19 AM
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