Subscriptions are something I don't

Subscriptions are something I don't do. I
really should, but for some reason, I relish buying newsstand. Perhaps it is the
sight of all the other publications that excites my finger tips. I love that
glossy feel. Yes, sir! That high shine gets me every time. Regularly picked up
is Vanity Fair and The Atlantic Monthly. Because living in a small city makes it
more challenging, less frequently perused is Harper's. I will not feign serious
writer attitude and claim only to read Vanity Fair for the articles. Herb Ritts
introduced me to appreciation for the male body. I believe he brought to film
what Michelangelo contributed to sculpture. I think it programmed me for R. His
beautiful body has always reminded me of Atlas. Annie Leibovitz: what an eye and
a finger for the shutter! Oh, and, yes, the advertisements. The Atlantic Monthly
can only be read because one wants to read, unless of course advertisements for
the ACLU, insurance, and financial services are a turn on. Caitlin Flanagan is a
regular contributor; a modern day Erma Bombeck but getting published inside one
of America's biggest pubs instead of columns in newsprint. Harper's is a similar
read, although I have consistently been turned off (pun intended) by the
overabundance of "personal" ads in the back. In Style and Lucky are my picks for
fashion. Lucky has these fun stickers in the front that can be attached to
anything that tickles your fancy. The layout caters to those who need a quick
read and not a dissertation on Alpha-Hydroxy creams versus pumice laden scrubs.
Outfits are price tiered for those who want to look like they shop New York but
live in west Texas. They've even walked the isles of Wal-Mart for pete's sake!
What gal hasn't given into a rash decision to satisfy the need for retail
therapy by grabbing at the discount store racks? In Style has pages of luscious
ads laid out between top notch interviews, articles, and celebrity low down
(once again, I would love to smugly assert that I could care less about Jenn and
Brad, but if I see Ben and J-Lo's faces again I will grab the nearest Sharpy and
redecorate). What more can a girl ask for? Well, there is plenty to ask for...