


People who know me are aware of my magazine addiction. It is a hereditary affliction passed from my grandmother, to my mother, to myself. I think from time to time I will talk a little about certain publications, as people are always complaining there is nothing around they feel totally drawn to. Perhaps I have found something in my ravenous search for the best? Who knows. I'm going to start with Frankie. Because everyone knows Frankie, and I got into a discussion last night regarding her genre. In the room of four I was the only one who said Frankie was not a fashion magazine. I really don't think she is! People compared her to Oyster, which I think is just so inaccurate. Frankie is sorta like a tattooed rockabilly girl crotcheting a granny square. It looks all sugar and spice, and it is a little. Craft and cooking sections are indeed regular, yet so are the mentions of sex and extreme drunkeness. You'll probably not flip through an issue without sight of a cute floral dress or the word fuck. Its that duality I think that appeals to so many. My only critcism of the magazine as a whole are the editorials. Often fantastic, often mediocre. Even so, this doesn't shake my loyalty in the slightest.
frankie.com.au

No comments:
Post a Comment