Magazine

I talked to Ryan yesterday about wanting to start a girls’ magazine that falls somewhere between Seventeen and Brio. As we were walking through Walmart, I was explaining to Ryan how sometimes I wish I could read a magazine that had good fashion pages and interesting articles, without the sex tips and disgusting embarrassing moments and stuff. The problem with magazines like Glamour and Cosmo and even Seventeen is that they have a mixed message; they have articles about ethical issues, feminism, and healthy body image right next to bits about how to get a guy’s attention, quick and easy ways to lose weight, and so on. The language used in the magazine even lends itself to peer pressure; they use all this really trendy-sounding lingo. No one I know talks like these magazine writers apparently do, and that’s just it—you don’t know what it means, so you feel like you’re not as cool as the people who write these magazines, or as cool as the other people who read these magazines because apparently they understand this lingo, otherwise why would the writers put it in there? So it’s subtly saying, “If you start to read this magazine more, you’ll start to understand how the cool girls talk and then you can be one of us.”

Ok, I’m sure that sounds exaggerated, and I’m sure that some sweet lady working for Allure is totally offended by what I’ve just said, and is ready to tell me about how the magazine she works for is all about empowering women.

Nah, I’m sure she’s not even reading this journal.

What does empowering even mean, anyway? I get so tired of that word. I can’t remember ever being empowered as a woman because I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like. I’ve felt powerful, confident, smart, strong, and even bossy. None of that had to do with being a woman, except for the fact that I am one—being comfortable in my female body and having a healthy body image. But is that empowerment? I don’t feel empowered when I look in the mirror and think I look good. I feel pretty. Or sexy. Or cute. I don’t feel empowered when I recognize my own competence at my job or in school. I feel smart. I don’t know what this whole empowerment thing is about, so if someone wants to educate me, feel free. I may or may not buy what you have to say.

Anyway, back to my magazine idea. I grew up reading Brio, a teenage girls Christian magazine, which is really pretty good for what it is. I mean, I really respect what they’re doing there. They give examples of modest—yet trendy!—ways to dress, what secular music and movies have some positive stuff for girls wanting to live a godly lifestyle, and articles and stories that present the common struggles of a teenage Christian girl. They also have a beauty tips feature (which is excellent!) and an advice column, which is ok. The thing that concerns me about the magazine, and especially the advice column, is that Susie, the editor-in-chief, I believe, who writes the advice and organizes the content of the magazine in general, is giving her best personal advice to these readers about how to handle situations—tough situations—as a Christian. Sometimes I really agree with her. Other times, I don’t. But the difference between this and other advice columns is that if I don’t agree with her, I almost feel like a “bad Christian.”

And I think that’s the downfall of magazines like Brio…this magazine tries to present itself in a way that is attractive to girls by using a similar format to that of the secular magazines. The problem is, the secular magazines are basically using literary peer pressure to keep its audience. Now transfer this to a religious magazine, and it’s not about being one of the cool girls anymore—it’s about being one of the righteous girls. And this time, if you don’t understand, agree, or care, it’s not that you aren’t cool. It might be that you’re not a good Christian. It might be that there’s something wrong with your faith.

And once again, if Susie, her staff, or the current Brio Girl ever happened to read this, I’m sure they would feel very offended, misunderstood, and misrepresented. So if anyone who is reading this is offended and really likes Brio, I’m sorry to offend you. I don’t hate Brio. I don’t even dislike it. I just feel that sometimes it lends itself to turning our discernment mechanism off.

In Velvet Elvis (great book, you should read it. Ryan has given it to like everyone he knows, including me!), the author, Rob Bell, says that we shouldn’t have to accept something without thinking about it just because it has the label “Christian” on it, and we shouldn’t rule stuff out just because it’s labeled “secular.” And I think Brio is on the right track. I just think sometimes they try to make the discernments for you instead of letting you decide for yourself. A big exception to this would be the entertainment review column. The guy who writes this is great because he tells you the good and the bad about an artist or movie. He’s honest. He’s not trying to dissuade you from listening for yourself, he’s just saying, “Hey, some of the stuff in here is a little raunchy or doesn’t reflect Christian values. Just so you know.” I think that’s great.

I guess I just want something that provides some positive material for girls to be entertained or occupied with, without sterilizing it. I realize the need for magazines like Brio, because some parents won’t let their kids listen to or read anything that isn’t “Christian.” But what about the girls who get to read it all and hate sifting through the sex articles to get to the good stuff? (Not that the sex stuff isn’t educational, just non-applicable at this point.)

Is there a market for that out there? I don’t know, but I think there is. Ryan said he thought I should pursue it because I sounded passionate about it. Maybe I will. I would just have to figure out where to start.