Ageless Glamour
The usual sound of scrabbling as the postman tries to get Vogue, Private Eye, the LRB and a number of communications from credit cards through my letterbox in one go. When I open the plastic cover (not very stylish, I'm sorry to say, but a drab grey) I pause. This doesn't look right. The issue is called and the cover shows Uma Thurman 'Facing forty with glamour'. This sounds a little to me like 'Facing cancer with courage', which doesn't seem to be the right tone for a supposedly celebratory issue.
There's something altogether un-Voguish about the whole issue. I like the magazine for its beautiful photographs of gorgeous people in unfeasible (and unfeasibly expensive) outfits. It's the one woman's magazine that I buy because it doesn't conform to the dreary round of articles about health scares and orgasms. What writing it contains is generally ok, but the clothes are the thing. Pieces on how to dress as you get older, an interview with style-icon Lady Thatcher (spare me) and details on where you should shop when you are in your 30s, 40s etc, do not belong in the Vogue I enjoy reading. To those of you who would say that it serves me right for bothering with something so frivolous, I would quote , 'you can't have depths without surfaces'. Dear Vogue, please don't turn into Good Houskeeping.
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