Why I’m giving up on this magazine, and why you probably didn’t like it in the first place.

While this blog remains dedicated to beauty, one thing you should know about the, um, blogger of this blog is that she is obsessed with fashion publications. I refuse to simply say ‘magazines’ because I don’t want you thinking Cosmopolitan or UsWeekly. I want you thinking Elle, InStyle, Marie Claire, Harper’s Bazaar, and People StyleWatch (can’t say I’m a regular Vogue-er yet … it’s still just a leeeeetle too highbrow for me). So let’s get this straight- when I say that I like ‘magazines’, I specifically want you thinking of fashion publications, and the easiest way for me to communicate that is to, well, say it just like that.

Bottom line: I am a fashion publication-aholic and I will be writing various posts about said fashion publications because I am a fashion publication-aholic. They may be related to my greater topic of beauty, but they may not be. Nevertheless, I believe you will find them highly useful. Deal? Deal.

So anyhow, I also must admit I have a thing for reviewing stuff. What do I mean? I mean I’ve got a TripAdvisor account, Yelp account, and Amazon account, and I use them all to write pointlessly extensive reviews of places and products. I enjoy it. It’s a thing.

Here’s where it all comes together- my latest adventure in online-reviewing has consisted of baring my soul regarding the fashion publication known as Lucky.

Now, I’ve been a very faithful reader/subscriber of this magazine for three to four years. It’s been fun and has inspired many unnecessary purchases. However, I’ve recently decided that I’ll be quittin’ ole’ Lucky once my subscription runs out this December, and I feel I’m quite justified in doing so. Care to know why? Well, just help yourself to reading my full Amazon review I’ve posted here entitled “It’s time I put ole’ Lucky out to pasture. Let me tell you why.” ……

‘LUCKY’ IS IN NEED OF A SANDWICH …… in other words, it’s getting thinner and thinner and isn’t looking too healthy these days. In fact, it’s been kind of a junky for a while now.

I keep up with magazine and publication news, and for a couple years or so ‘Lucky’ has been the sadder part of the news. Its numbers have been going down, and this current September 2012 issue is one of the thinnest September issues I’ve seen in a really long time. This isn’t for nothing, though- I’ve subscribed for about four years and I’ve got to say, ‘Lucky’ is really no longer worth subscribing to. Come December, I think I’m done.

Ever since they switched up their editor-in-chief (used to be Kim France), things just haven’t been as strong for the magazine. Don’t get me wrong- I’m a die-hard, so-badly-wish-I-lived-in-NYC trendy hipster fashion slave. I love it all and I read almost all fashion publications on a monthly basis. But I really feel like the editors at ‘Lucky’ think its readers are robotic numbskulls. It’s become almost nothing more than a glorified catalog, and there’s barely any meaty content now. I understand that instant gratification is the name of the game these days in fashion publications, and that it’s kind of a genius strategy to tell your readers exactly what to buy (with the item styled in a cute editorial shoot on the same page!). ‘People StyleWatch’ employs a similar technique. But I feel ‘Lucky’ has pigeonholed itself into catering to one specific kind of reader- someone who WORKS IN FASHION, LIKE THEMSELVES.

It’s like the folks at ‘Lucky’ are working to create a publication simply for people EXACTLY like themselves! Same looks, same sense of taste and style, SAME PAYCHECK, same type of job, same type of living conditions (hip, urban), etc. Any time they do a feature on a ‘Lucky girl’ or some ‘real person’, they always seem to work in fashion, advertising, or are the owner of some fabulous salon. Oh, or perhaps they’re a recording artist showing this year at Coachella, or they’re the star of a film out this month. They always seem to live either in New York or Los Angeles. There are no teachers, no office workers, no folks from the mid-West, no one that just knows how to shop and dress damn well and WITHOUT the million-dollar budget or high-profile career. And AGAIN, don’t get me wrong- I am a fashion fanatic. However, my budget is, well, budget-ish. I can’t identify with the ‘Lucky’ reader anymore because she doesn’t seem to have a budget and she doesn’t seem to be able to say “No” to advertising. I’m sure I could still subscribe to ‘Lucky’ for another year and suck the juice out of it, but I am just at the point where I feel insulted doing so. EVERY SINGLE PAGE is listed with attractively-styled items and their given prices, along with a sometimes-ludicrous description of each. Example- “Bonjour, Cleveland! Rose-gold jeans feel so French rocker.” I mean, ok. I get it, I like to write too. But you just feel like they’re trying SO HARD to convince you to just BUY. Not to be inspired, but to buy. And they will shamelessly pitch that item to you, no matter what the price tag may be (frequently upwards of $500 … BUT YOU’LL LOVE IT FOREVER!!!).

While some may argue that ‘Lucky’ is trying to provide fashion inspiration, let’s face it- the point of ‘Lucky’ is to inspire SPENDING, and almost nothing more. Each month, I at least find myself at the drugstore buying some new body wash they recommend in each new issue, and I just don’t need that right now. I understand that ‘People StyleWatch’ has the same thing going but I feel they do a much better job of catering to lesser incomes and helping you restyle your own wardrobe. They have their niche with their specific focus on celebrities, and everyone can name a celebrity whose style they like. ‘Lucky’ just leaves you feeling overwhelmed and as if you need to be one of the “cool girls” in order to relate. Your evidence of this problem lies in the fact that their issues have been growing increasingly thinner; they’re losing readers and they’re losing ad pages.

If you’re not Olivia Palermo, pick something else to subscribe to rather than ‘Lucky’. You’ll enjoy it more in the long-run.

p.s. I do like their “City Guide” feature, with a shopping guide to a different major city each month. I tear all those out and keep ’em. Oh, and an extra star for Jean Godfrey-June as their beauty editor.

I am a true Neoclassicist work of art.

Just kidding, I’m not really calling myself a work of art (though sometimes I really do look like this when I wake up). It’s just that I’ve watched that video on museum-inspired makeup I posted a couple days ago probably once every day during the past week, and I had to do my own follow-up on it. I’m always looking for an excuse to try something new and maybe an excuse to find a new product (because you’ve really gotta twist my arm for that). Luckily, the only product I purchased as a result of Emily Weiss’s video was MAC’s powder blush in ‘Buff’.

Here, I’ve recreated the look shown in the video on myself, inspired by the luminous skin seen in paintings from the Neoclassicist and Romantic periods of art.

There is no filter used on this photo! I didn’t Instagram it, nothin’. I just sat in front of an open window facing the light. See how my skin glows? I followed Violette’s instructions exactly from the video. The MAC blush made a huge difference, especially when being careful to start at the ear and brush down into the hollows of the cheek. I always like to have my models pucker and make a fish-face when I apply bronzer or a contouring blush on them, and it worked well for this. Violette’s instructions on how to apply the highlighter (a pearly cream shadow) were right on; all the little spots on your face that catch the light. I barely put anything on my lips, just some balm. And while I tend to put on three or four coats of mascara regularly, I tried to use a little less than usual for this look.

I used the following key products of my own:

MakeupForever HD Foundation in #115

NARS cream blush in Lokoum

NARS cream shadow in Thebes

MakeupForever HD Finish powder

MAC eye kohl in Smolder

Museum-Inspired Makeup

Emily Weiss of http://www.intothegloss.com just knows the right people. As a beauty editor for Vogue, she’s got the connections that’ll make you cringe with envy (I don’t know about you, but when I’m envious I cringe). Here, she’s filmed her girl Violette (a ridiculously talented Dior representative) showing us how to contour and highlight for a fresh-faced look reminiscent of neoclassicist paintings. Brilliant. Be sure to check out her blog that features a full post on this video!

The most unflattering/greatest hair-do of all time.

“I always love your little buns”.

I remember my friend Bonnie saying that to me one afternoon about my hair.  I’d done what I do so often these days: twirled it up into a little knot and wrapped an elastic around it.  I am always wearing my hair in a topknot.  And no, not a perfectly Pinterest-ed “sock bun” that looks so sixties-chic with volume and hairspray.  It’s a tiny little knot, just sitting there at the top of my head, flattering my face in no way whatsoever.  But I love it.

However, I wasn’t always comfortable giving in to this style.  In the autumn of 2010 I was extraordinarily busy with a social science teaching internship at a high school.  Prior to starting the school year I’d had visions of beautifully crafted outfits and blown-out hair every day, impressing my students with my abilities to grade their papers, develop stimulating and challenging lesson plans, and look amazing without missing a step (and how foolish I was to not foresee that you can pretty much afford to choose one of those options- the others go down the drain).

By November, the hair was being ignored.  But by “ignored” I mean it was being carelessly and quickly twisted up into one of these little “samurai buns”, as another friend once called it.  At first I felt ridiculous.  I mean, sometimes it was still wet and my hair was just sitting there as this pathetic little ball at the top of my head.  I even named it my ‘I-give-up bun’.  

Over time though, my feelings began to change toward my little buns.  I’d seen this picture of Jessica Hart in an issue of Harper’s Bazaar, and this model was wearing her hair just like mine!  And it didn’t look half bad.  I remember thinking, ‘If a model with a serious career like Jessica’s can wear her hair like this and just not care how people feel about it (even though it looked great regardless), then so can I.’  

I instantly felt at peace with my little buns, or after learning their proper name, my topknots.

I’m a top-knotter for life, now.  There’s something so French about just tossing up your hair like that, because you don’t really care about how it turns out and yet just that mentality manages to add this sense of chic to it that’s so hard to articulate.  I guess that’s what they mean when they refer to je ne sais quois.

… and this would be me.

... and this would be me.

I started wearing a lot of glitter in seventh grade. I know everyone did in junior high of my generation, but I really can’t communicate to you quite how much I wore. Just trust me. There are no pictures, but believe me when I say I left a literal trail everywhere I went.

Things have evolved since then, and I’ve never lost my devotion to the beauty department. I remember blowing a twenty-five dollar gift card all on one Chanel Glossimer during my freshman year of high school. I did a presentation on makeup artistry, complete with a demonstration, in eighth grade during language arts (for which I received a big, fat ‘A+’, by the way). I wander around Nordstrom in the beauty department with the hope that some kindly, drooling for sales commission representative of Dior will ask that fateful question, “May I try couple things on you today?!”

So here’s my basic mission statement:

I’m here to share my passion for the beauty department, which includes makeup, skin-care, and hair. I’m here to inform readers on what I use, where I go, and what I do to keep that passion well-fueled. I consider my audience to be anyone and everyone who has ever touched a makeup brush or a curling rod and either used it like a professional or has quietly muttered to themselves, ‘What. Do. I. Do.’ Whether you stick strictly to your local pharmacy for your routine or you settle for nothing less than the La Mer counter at Neiman Marcus, I believe I may have a little sumpin’ sumpin’ to share with you.

xo,
McKenna