Marie Claire leaves us the most consistently conflicted of all the ladymags. It sometimes has fascinating stories and fashion spreads that manage to be neither art-y nor catalog-y. Its celebrity profiles — the July Angelina piece, this month's Ashley Olsen effort — are meatier than most. But it wasn't until we read the Wall Street blog Dealbreaker's breakdown on the magazine's "Field Guide To Wall Street Women" — a piece the Dealbreaker blogger copped to seeing only because she was getting a "pedicure" that we saw our primary beef with the magazine staring us in the face: its readers. Marie Claire, we realized, is for the type of women who work on Wall Street. In other words, it's for women who know about celebrity gossip because they get pedicures, and know about fashion because actually have to buy it sometimes. Put simply, they are smart, but somehow not miserable as a direct result of that fact. And sometimes, they are more than a little completely unlikable, as another piece on "starter husbands" (sample quote: "I think marriage is the new dating and having kids is the new marriage.") reveals:
"I totally bought into the wedding-industry machine," admits Elisa, who spent more time obsessively planning every detail of her nuptials for 300 at a Malibu estate than she did working on her master's thesis. From the five-star vegan menu to the Japanese lanterns to the playlist, Elisa's focus was all wedding, no marriage.
Which is why her marriage, you know, had to like stop.
Pulling the trigger was easy; dealing with the fallout was not. "Everytime I ran into somebody I knew, I wanted to die."
Oh, well! Anyway, so whenever you think the problems with women's magazines all come back to "guilt," um, remember "Elisa," and the entitled, unapologetic, non-guilty readers of Marie Claire.