Saturday, 8 April 2017

The Woes of Reading Vogue

I recently purchased a copy of the age-old fashion Bible after months of abstinence. It isn't something I indulge in often as I don't feel the need to bash my self-esteem on the regular, and also, 150 bucks for a glorified picture book is a bit much, in my opinion. As much as I hate on the magazine and the trends they promote, I can't argue that their tactics actually work. I'm tempted every time I see a copy on the shelves of my local supermarket. Every single time I leaf through their ultra-glossy pages, I have the same thoughts running through my mind and I vow to never go down that path again. But, as always, I fall of the wagon eventually.



My relationship with Vogue began at the innocent age of 13. At the time, I didn't know what insecurities were and I rarely ever thought about my appearance. Vogue changed everything for me. At first, I wished I owned everything featured in the magazine.