One of the best things about getting older (and older, and older...) is weeding out the unhelpful voices in my life. As a girl, I was an avid reader of women's magazines--starting with Seventeen (at 11, of course), working my way up through Glamour, Elle, Marie Claire and finally, In Style. I dabbled in Self and Vogue, though I'm pretty sure I never actually paid for a subscription to either one. Somehow, as my life got busier and then I became a wife and mother, I found I had less and time--and less and less interest in--these kinds of magazines. This is partly because of the overwhelming repetitiveness of the content: how many different times can a woman read the "Sexiest Swimsuit for your Body" article, or the "Ten Tips to Flatten Your Tummy" piece before they blur together indistinguishably?
But it's not only the inanely repetitive content that rubbed me the wrong way--the thoughtless prescriptiveness is what finally turned me off: "Follow these [insert number] tips and you can fix your life." Whether it's in a guide to losing weight, conquering your bad hair, or picking the right outfit, there's a harsh message underlying these robotically upbeat pieces: you need fixing. You are not good enough--nor will you ever be, as long as we're around to point it out. I hate how certain asinine "tips" absorbed in my youth have stuck with me: Walking on sand is a great way to exfoliate your feet! Scissoring your legs while lounging in the pool will tone your inner thighs! Like flotsam, these "lifestyle hints" have floated around in my mind for decades, when surely that space would be better used for remembering the quadratic equation...or how to play the piano...or anything else, really.
Now, I have friends (bright, hardworking, admirable friends) who work and write for these magazines, and I don't mean to say that they have no value; they also publish thoughtful articles and worthwhile stories, and they must be a good place to work as a woman (right?). But I dearly wish they would stop implying that mindlessly following a simple series of helpful hints would truly improve my life. Because, frankly, there are only two ways to respond to suggestions like these: either you adopt them all and become a CRAZY PERSON; or you try and inevitably fail, which just leaves you feeling even worse about yourself in the long run. They're like New Year's resolutions from hell, tormenting you on a monthly basis with the futility of good intentions. And who's writing these pieces, anyway? What are their credentials? Are their lives perfected? Really, the only person whose advice in this arena I might be inclined to follow is Oprah: her life looks pretty great. But I'd wager a large amount that the average journalist or editor for a women's magazine has no better hair or relationships or bikini body than you do.
The one magazine like this that's tried to sneak back into my life in recent years is a parenting publication. Without ever consciously subscribing to it, I somehow receive it each month in the mail nonetheless. It's the same content, dressed up in a shiny, happy, child-friendly package, with a cute baby slapped on the cover. "Five Healthy Snacks for Your Toddler." "Ten Toys To Make Your Child Smarter." "Seven Ways to Lose that Baby Weight." Help! Am I really the only one who finds these articles overwhelming and ultimately upsetting? Am I too cynical in believing that there are no simple steps or helpful hints written by a magazine journalist that will genuinely improve my parenting? The advice especially irks me when it has to do with food, as there is no one-size-fits-all prescription when it comes to kids' food preferences, and a terrible way to feed children is to subscribe (and by extension, force them to subscribe) to rigid rules and oversimplified "solutions." Please don't try and convince me that my kid will eat flax seeds if I could only arrange them in a satisfactory happy face on the plate. Not to mention that nutrition information is unreliable and shifty enough without force-feeding it down the gullets of children who have no choice in the matter.
Rather than advocating certain foods, I wish magazines (and parenting books) would instead try to change the conversations people have about food, both with and in front of their children. Getting your kids to eat only whole-wheat pasta (good luck with that) may work fine in the short term, while they're under your roof, but wouldn't it be even better to focus on helping them make good choices for themselves? Not overhearing parents obsess over weight, or watching them restrict or binge in their own diets, would be so much more beneficial, yet people don't give much thought to how they talk about food with their children. And our lemming-like adherence to magazine-style advice isn't helping us one bit: we need to free ourselves from "tips," "hints" and "solutions" and focus more on what we do and say to them about food.
What I cooked this week and last:
