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.

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