I recently created a decoupage glitter phone case by mining expensive patterns from Prada, Louis Vuitton, and Pierre Hardy from the latest Vogue. I’m pretty sure it’s what Anna Wintour intended when she gathered these full-color photos of expensive fabrics. Thanks!
Having recently visited the Vogue offices in NYC, perhaps this lent me an ounce of self-awareness. I soon realized I was cycling through what I now call the Three Emotional Stages of Reading Vogue.
The Three Emotional Stages of Reading Vogue
The first emotional stage of reading Vogue is Judgement. This superficial step requires a pen, and is where one turns into a poor man’s Tim Gunn. Half of the fashions get an ‘Oh honey, no‘. The other half create a bulging-eye and drool affliction akin to an anime character in love. Flipping through Vogue involves the most bipolar emotions that one can experience.
- Example: I am the GOD of fashion. I, and only I, will decide who gets a mustache and who doesn’t in this rag! Those shoes are my new heart! That girl had her makeup applied with a shotgun!
This stage is optimized by reading with a friend, preferably a tween.
The second emotional stage of reading Vogue goes deeper, and is straight-up Self-Loathing.
- Example: Why can’t I afford a nice Michael Kors bag? Do you realize that there are pop stars half my age that have a pile of these on the floor of their maid’s bathroom? They probably wipe their butts with scarves from Coach. Maybe not regularly, but in the history of time and space, some twerp celebrity has done this at least once in the VIP area of a club I could never get into. I had so many dreams of stardom in my youth. Dreams that flat-lined into a life of mediocrity and 9-to-5 imprisonment. Never mind, Michael Kors, I don’t deserve you. This model needs a devil beard…
Once you have shed most of your self-esteem, it is imperative that you power through the celebrity interview and move on to the next stage. Whatever you do, don’t put down the Vogue while in the throes of Self-Loathing.
Luckily, the third emotional stage of reading Vogue is Blinding Inspiration (or, Sour Grapes). Only out of the ashes of self-loathing can we emerge as the phoenix to creative rebirth! This is the point where one decides that they somehow don’t want to be able to afford those gorgeous Manolo Blahniks because, dammit, you could make that look yourself. We begin to view Vogue as part of the man-made fashion machine, and pat ourselves on the back for gleaning inspiration for our own genius from those all-too-glossy pages.
- Example: Who are these fools that spend so much on mere accessories?! I’m so Jedi for making such a zen decision about the value of material objects. I could make all of this crap in my sleep. SO FRUGAL! CREATIVE, WOW!
Caution: Never stop reading an issue of Vogue until you’ve reached this final creative renaissance of spite and indignity. If the process is interrupted, you’ll be stuck back on Self Loathing for, eh, maybe a day. To quickly cure an interrupted Vogue session, read something by Rachel Dratch or splurge on a top-tier appetizer at Chili’s. Dollah dollah bills, ya’ll!
Once I reach the last stage, I have been successfully spit out of the back cover of Vogue and I’m ready to start creating. I can now fully appreciate the work of the designers within as I move forward with my own style via the inspiration they provided. Which is what I think Vogue should be all about.