I know that some of my dear readers have heard this rant before, but I believe that it warrants yet another reminder. Here we go. Why oh why did Lucky magazine go over to the luxury goods dark side?
I am what they refer to as a charter subscriber of Lucky magazine, and I remember back in the day when I was actually a tiny bit proud (okay, maybe the better word is pleased) to be tangentially associated with them. I liked that they were a bunch of smart girl Oberlin grads who seemingly created this magazine because they wanted to make sure that you knew it was okay to be intellectual and also like fashion. I liked the sly references to Carol Gilligan and Walt Whitman. Most importantly, I liked that the clothes they featured were actually within financial reach. There was a chance I could put together some of these outfits.
Fast forward four or five years, and Lucky has almost completely shed her sexy librarian image and has morphed into Ivanka Trump on steroids. It's difficult to find any item of clothing that costs less than $400, and when one does, it's listed as a "cheap deal." Gone are the sly references to life outside of fashion--literature, travel, or philosophy. Instead, we are handed only crumbs of the old Lucky in the form of glowing profiles of Daddy's little girl jewelry designers who live on the upper east side with their dog, huge walk in closet, and very shiny hair. I must admit that a small piece of me wishes that was my life, but there are plenty of magazines to turn to if I want to live vicariously through models and socialites. I miss the original and unique zest of Lucky.
I always say that I am not going to renew my subscription this year. And every year I do. I think it's because I'm holding out hope. Hope that someday Lucky will return to the way it was--or at least give me some sign. A reference to Barbara Ehrenreich's Nickel and Dimed perhaps? That would seem just. But of course I just keep hanging on--either hoping they finally do see the light, or I can start affording $400 sweaters.
