My founding magazine subscriptions probably define me
My founding magazine subscriptions probably define me
We all have foundational memories that help shape who we are. I recently screwed up enough of my adult emotional control to watch Inside Out (spoiler alert…my adulting lasted all of ten minutes and I cried like a baby multiple times) and loved the idea of “core memories”…those moments that make us who we are. I’ve always been an avid reader, and when I was a kid I loved to go for thick books or books that impressed grown-ups. But I also came of age in the 90s, when American Girl dolls were still run by Pleasant Company and my play and imaginative world revolved around historic dolls and teeny tiny accessories. I maintain that the scene with Addy and the worm (if you know, you know) was one of the most visceral explanations of slavery I have experienced even to this day.
With the explosion of Teen Beat and Teen Vogue and all the rest of the 90s culture of growing up too fast Pleasant Company launched their counterattack – American Girl magazine. Full of crafts and stories of girls who wanted to be vets and clean scrubbed American girls from all over the country it was a gleeful reinforcement of 10- and 12-year-old girls who still wanted to play with dolls and play Little House on the Prairie in their tree houses. (Did I string wild onions across my tree house to dry? You gosh darn bet I did.) I crushed on Jonathan Taylor Thomas (JTT, obvi) and watched TRL with everyone else, but I also held onto magical parts of my childhood, and Pleasant Company made sure I knew that was ok. Having daughters now I am overwhelmed by the marketing of products to children, and it’s fair to say the magazine was probably created to help attract and sell more products. But it also filled a tween time for me in a way that didn’t make me feel bad for not wanting to be sexy or wear make-up when I was 11. I tried to order it for my 7-year-old a few months ago and learned the magazine was discontinued a few years ago. I assume it fell to a twin tornado of internet media and the early sexualization of young girls, but I dearly wish it hadn’t. My daughter devours the few old AG issues that I saved (I’m not a hoarder, mom, I’m PREPARED) which I strongly suspect were kept because of their cool craft projects.
I grew up a bit, played with the dolls far longer than my peers, and graduated to CDs and dances and flannel shirts and some truly awkward haircuts. I was never cool, but I had a small group of close friends and some deep interests I could share with friends. I still wasn’t into Cosmo, or Vogue, and while I enjoyed the occasional celebrity gossip, I didn’t really ever purchase magazines except for the occasional beach trip or pool day. And then came Real Simple. As a teen who once requested a bread maker as a gift in high school, I think it stands to reason that a magazine geared towards life hacks, simplicity, and comfortably casual would make my heart sing. AND IT DID. For over a decade my Christmas gift from my aunt was a subscription, and I collected articles and pictures in my awesome giant blue sketch book from Borders for years before Pinterest was a thing.
Because here’s the thing…immersing yourself in amazing stories and trying to simplify and also better the more mundane parts of life…. that’s kind of what adulting is. When rugs and curtains cost as much as your first mountain bike and the responsibilities and the decisions start to mound up higher and higher, skills like escaping into a good book or giving yourself a quick and satisfying cleaning/dressing/decorating/life win start to matter more and more. I can never see any miniature object in the world without mentally calculating if it would be the right proportion for an American Girl Doll, and I’ll never clean my silver without tinfoil again. We’re a lot of things, my generation…. Gen X, Gen Y, Y2k, Millennials…but I’m quite solid on my foundation of AG and RS and I’m grateful to be seen and recognized and know other people enjoy what I do as well, just like when I was 10.