Let magazines live

Remember when we were little? When that weird, chubby neighborhood girl would call you during your midafternoon dose of “Doogie Howser, M.D”. and ask, “Wanna play?”\n“Um, no. Wanna watch the latest episode of ‘Sister, Sister’?”\nOh yeah, I was that kid. Like those albinos who need NASA spacesuits to go outside, it took a lot to get me to throw on my dirty flip-flops and exit my sitcom bubble.\nBut there was always one exception. In the fifth grade, my best friend and I begged our parents for permission to walk two blocks away to the nearest Walgreens – all by ourselves.\nFinally, freedom rings! Let the bells toll! And after I gathered a few crinkled dollar bills and my most adult trip-to-the-pharmacy outfit, we made the rough, 3 1/2-minute walk – semibusy intersection included – to Walgreens.\nAfter a quick massacre of the distasteful, might-as-well-have-bought-it-at-Goodwill lipsticks, I get my head in the zone and head to the only section I came for: the magazine aisle.\nSo many options! What will it be? Cat Fancy? Reader’s Digest? Soft-core porn in a plastic baggie?\nNo way. My 10-year-old self headed straight for Seventeen, where I could cut out pictures of Leonardo DiCaprio and learn how to take my makeup from day to evening (an important skill for every 10-year-old girl to master).\nBefore I headed to the cash register, I would always experience this twinge of nervousness, like I thought the disgruntled sales employee had the power to rip the magazine out of my hands and scream, “This magazine is for big girls only, so skedaddle!” \nBut I knew I was old enough to read it, and nothing, not even a disgruntled Walgreens employee without a college degree and with a vocabulary that includes the word “skedaddle,” could stop me. \nNow it is 10 years later, and I’m just as voracious about magazines as I ever was. In fact, I plan on working in the fashion magazine industry when I get out of school. It’ll be just like “The Hills,” only absolutely nothing like it at all.\nAnyway, a thought came across my mind the other day that was relatively disturbing. Little girls in the generations after me will probably never have an experience like mine. First of all, the national sex-offender registry probably told their parents that Walgreens and its surrounding area are a veritable hotbed of pedophile activity, so there’s no way those kids are going anywhere without their bilingual nannies. Second, there may not be any magazines for them to buy.\nOne by one, the print magazine industry is surrendering to the online magazine industry – all thanks to a little thing called convergence. Convergence is the melding together of different media – like The New York Times being available online and in print – and frankly, it is killing the magazine industry. Why would you want to buy a magazine when all of its content is available online?\nWell, here’s why, first of all: the latest issue of Vogue contained 637 full-color, glossy pages and only cost $4.50. Second of all, I hear that every time you log on to the Internet, a kitten dies. You know what doesn’t kill kittens? Print magazines. Plus, you get to rip out what you love and do whatever you please with it. I, for one, sleep next to a framed Dolce & Gabbana advertisement and dream of having a disposable income.\nWe should stop putting so much focus on what’s available on the Internet, and start focusing on what’s not. Magazines just don’t have the same effect through the screen. So go out there, pick one up (I recommend Nylon for the fashion/music-obsessed), and let your old-school flag fly. But if you’re walking to the store, don’t forget to look both ways at the semibusy intersection.