Life

Dear Cosmopolitan

Dear Cosmopolitan (November Issue),

I wanted to write and let you know that, despite all attempts on your part, I am ok. Admittedly it was touch and go for a while there…but for the most part, I have emerged from reading this issue relatively unscathed.

To be honest, you really had me running the gauntlet with this one. For a moment there, I thought I wasn`t going to make it luckily for me though, I had a copy of Noseweek to keep me grounded. It was like the elixir of life, I tell you.

It was a great attempt though…and you nearly had me reduced to a sniveling, paranoid, neurotic shell of a woman. Firstly, there was the physical risk of hurting myself with the actual size and weight of the November issue. When I saw it for the first time I was so excited I saw the prospect of juicy in-the-bath reading happening. My excitement disappeared when I started reading and realised that 60% of the magazine is advertising. Sies man…skaam julle, julle nie dood nie? If I had fallen and tripped with that heavy bulky magazine in my hands, I would`ve possible been killed by a slew of Prada, Gucci and Visagie ads. And, contrary to what you Cosmo gals advocate, there ARE better ways to die.

I was ready to forgive the Cosmo Editorial team though. I honestly felt that the 40% left, would be newsworthy, read-worthy articles, columns and the like. Well…not quite, was it? At least another 10% of that was dedicated to sun worshipping, obscenely thin and gorgeously dewy looking models glowing in the Zanzibar sun. Now, look here Vanessa and company, I know what happens when you go to the beach and it doesn`t even vaguely resemble what was happening in that Summer segment. For one, nobody could look that peachy-keen when you`ve got sand in places that the good lord didn`t intend. Secondly, nobody (NOBODY) has the amazing glowing sun-kissed bronzed look. Unless they`re Paris Hilton (and that`s not really sun-kissed, as much as it is just orange).

The rest of us mere mortals drag our pasty pale behinds out into the unforgiving sun, sand and surf. The sun morphs us into a rather interesting shade of pink (which I hear Dulux is trying to copyright and call South African Sizzle), the sand and the wind collaborates viciously with the sunblock you have so generously applied to create something resembling the pink side of the nail emery board. And when you finally haul you pink gritty self into the water, the likelihood of being attacked by a passing shark is more likely than being attacked by a gorgeous lifeguard. So, look…I was just not buying into the whole fabulous beach queen act.

As for the rest of the issue….oh puuuhleeeeze. How to find a man, lose a man, lose the man and not gain the kilo`s, how to have sex, why it`s a good idea NOT to have sex (wait…sorry. That was a Noseweek article)…

Why plenty of sex in impossible positions is vitally important to world peace….

How to cut your hair, grow your hair, lose the hair down there. Why you are single? Wish you were single? Single and loving it? Don`t be single anymore in 10 easy steps!!.

Excuse me while I squat in a corner, wearing my MuiMui heels, Jenny B tailored slacks and beautifully cut Carolina Herrera vintage ivory cashmere top, while sobbing discreetly into my Hermes hankie…Nee man. I thought your aim was to empower the Fun Fearless Female and not turn is into Fearful Fatal Femme`s.

So, Dear Cosmopolitan…I think I will give next month`s issue a miss. I really don`t see the point in picking up a publication so conflicted and without identity and paying R22 and odd change to be told (every month) how imperfect I am and how much work needs to be done on me physically, emotionally and *gasp* sexually. All the men in my life will appreciate this too. In fact, I heard them whisper that stopping your Cosmo purchases might be the great change of life they`ve heard women speak about.

Now then, please be formally notified that I herewith will refrain from purchasing and / or accepting gift subscriptions to your farce of a magazine, aimed specifically for my target market.

Unless you have Angelina on the cover in December and add a cheap freebie in a choice of 3 fashionable summer colours.

Signed,

The Princess

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