Saturday, November 14, 2009

A Letter to Teen Vogue

Dear Teen Vogue,
I used to love you. Note the "used to." I just got your most recent issue and am over half way through it and I must say our love affair is officially over. When we started, you represented the quintessence of cool, a delicious taste of what I could and might be someday. But as I collected issues, I realized that I could never be one of those stylish girls gracing your pages. For any "normal" girl you showcase has a quasi-famous or super-rich parent. You may as well rename your magazine "Rich, Quasi-Famous Teen Vogue." You cater to the Manhattan socialites who are invited to events because of their famous artist father or who start a fashion line just because they have the money, even if they lack the talent.

What's more, you're pretentious. I'm sorry to be so rude, but "to plainness honor's bound when Majesty falls to folly" (yes, I just quoted King Lear. I can be pretentious too, so SUCK IT). You showcase up-and-comers, letting your "discoveries" parade around your magazine like trophies to be harvested when they land their first big gig. News flash: no one cares about two-movies-to-her-name Lily Collins. Why do you do this? I doubt it's because you can't get big names for your magazine... so is it because you actually think we care? Or do you just want the satisfaction of smirking and yelling "I told you so" when Lily lands her first big role?

Another thing: why are your photo-shoots so similar and crappy? Your photo-shoots used to be so whimsical and different, while keeping a strong footing in reality. Now it's all neon and chunky necklaces on top of a gorgeous dress that 90% of teenagers can't afford. And even when you advertise something as "budget-friendly," it's still $70 for a shirt. Seriously? Go outside and ask the first ten teens you see how much they're able to spend on a shirt. Try not to pass out when they say "$40 or lower."

I'm just saying, please, get off your high horse and come back down to the world of reality. Otherwise, future preteens wont look to you for their sartorial fantasies as I did long ago.

Random Nobody

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