As usual, I’m always on the late train when it comes to following fads, be they in music or fashion. This one is no exception only I missed two in tandem.
Pete Doherty was a name I vaguely recalled in some tabloid or something crappy. I remember the story was about Kate Moss on holiday and finding her boyfriend screwing some other chick instead of her blah blah blah. Might’ve got everything wrong, don’t take my word for it.
Anyway, that never had any effect on me at all. At the time I had no idea who the fuck Pete Doherty was and I am certainly not of the bony persuasion thank you very much. Then I recalled more information stuffed in my face by some “media” outlet telling me more about this rock star and his lifestyle.
Fast forward to a few weeks back and I magically waved my mouse and woosh! appeared The Libertines self titled LP on my iTunes. I have to say, this shite is actually quite engaging. The music for itself, sort of harks back to Oasis almost. Its not super classic by any stretch but its quite good, old school-ish British rock ‘n’ roll.
Then I learn of Pete Doherty’s close friendship with Hedi Slimane and it all fell together when I saw this pic.
So, trendwhore that I am, I promptly bought myself a goddamn trilby and yes, I hum Babyshambles songs now when I strut down Sydney’s streets, with as much rock star menace as I can muster.
The only other mag I buy regularly is this one. Delicious is just my fave when it comes to food pr0n. I mean, its got a ton of recipes with fantastic full color food spreads that are very handy when you “have needs”.
It just looks so damn tasty. I cannot resist. Its delish. I just wish they had more female chefs wearing less and smothering themselves in chocolate or passionfruit juice or tomatoes like Giada here.
*Btw, that image is actually from Slashfood via Esquire and not really from Delicious but I’m confident you’re not actually ever going to read this so I can insert a “Screw you!” here.
Filed under: Books, Culture, Design, Fashion, Graphics, Photography, Print, Travel
I’ll be honest, I bought the glossy based on hype. The editor’s Tyler Brule for god’s sake. Yet seriously, when I first set eyes on the mag at the bookstore today, I was truly sold and forked over my debit for the 2 latest available issues.
One of the first things that you’ll notice is the size. Its just under an A4 at 198mm x 265mm which means it fits easily into most briefcases, totes and larger handbags. Its not that thick either. All in all, it feels substantial but not huge, just well intended.
The next thing that will strike you is the front layout, which almost looks like it fell off a webpage rather than your typical mag or paper. The logo doesn’t scream out, there’s a main photo but the contents are neatly listed just above. Its understated but modern.
The photography is amazing as well. Whilst they may not be immense, they have intense character and the colour is superb. The fashion spreads are fucking gorgeous. All this on a matte paper that feels great, prints well and isn’t at all heavy either. Just perfectly balanced. I have no idea how it will age but I don’t suppose you collect them for posterity.
The interior layout is good too. Simple and effective, with little details explaining the pictures. Pages with snippets of reporting are well sorted too, reading is easy and it all flows well. In some ways, I am reminded of what wallpaper* looked like but this baby is certainly a grown up layout.
Content? Well… its not like any other mag I’ve ever come across. Ok, I’m not exactly the magazine afficionado but I imagine Monocle as a sort of gentleman’s mag which combines the best of traditional current affairs magazines, with the modern stylistic leanings of a design mag. Each issue is just chock full of good info. I am actually reading every single article, whether it be about Djibouti or Murmansk like in November’s issue. It also comes with its own manga insert.
Its completely refined, very very stylish, distinctive and at once upper crust yet hipster cool. If I had one, I might actually whip out a monocle, brush my tersely trimmed tache ever so gently, hum a lucid tune and sip on my tea on a brisk Sunday afternoon in my spotless tuxedo. The nubile females spread on the floor try their best yet remain unable to distract me from the task at hand. I am lost in my thoughts.
