My vagina is too old for Cosmo
Yes. Yes I did buy this copy of More magazine. Without embarrassment. Almost recklessly. Melissa McCarthy is my hero, so it was without shame that I slapped this on the conveyor belt at Target two weeks ago. What's to be embarrassed about right? It's Melissa McCarthy.
I read it. Ok, devoured it. And I found it to be refreshing. The women in that magazine looked like me. They are worried about anti aging and acne at the same time, like me. They are trying to appropriately integrate some neon into their fashion life, just like me. It was amazing. It was comfortable.
And I loved every bit of it.
Then, last Monday I had an hair appointment. To cover my grays it takes an entire hour of sitting with dye on my hair. Which is perfect for me. It's like a mini vacation. It bliss. It's the perfect time to catch up on all the rags in the hair salon. Which is usually the icing on the cake. Until it wasn't.
I spent no longer than five minutes flipping through a Cosmopolitian magazine before I came to the screeching realization that I have outgrown the once sought after rag. Better yet, I think it's safe to say my vagina has outgrown Cosmo. The models look 12, possibly 14. They are modeling for articles about young baby girl worries. Like how to care for your vagina after a one night stand. Or how to appropriately initiate a one night stand. They are about pleasing your man, in bed, at a bar, on the subway. Seriously. I'm sure at one time "college mommy", as my Hubbs likes to refer to my former self, was really interested in such issues. Sure, there is a right way and a wrong way to exit a one night stand. There is a certain way to handle ones self in the work place after romance. There are certain things your vagina should and shouldn't do. But I'm 35, and my vagina doesn't go on such adventures anymore.
Favorite titles from their recent issues online and in print include: How To Please Your Man; Happy Birthday Sex, Seven ways to blow out his candles; Why Isn't He Texting You Back; and Things To Do Before Graduation. Look, my younger former self, and self's much younger vagina, would have embraced all of these titles. These days, seven ways to blow anything seems pretty daunting. As a comfortable 35 year old wife and mother, I know exactly how to please my man. I say yes to sex when I would rather sleep, watch True Blood, or read the latest issue of More. I also know exactly why he's not texting me back. It's because I'm a nagging bitch and want to know what time he's getting home from work, or if he can stop at the store for that one damned thing I forgot. As for the graduation article I was really confused. My graduation? My kids graduation?
I knew something was brewing when I renewed my subscription to Redbook and not to Glamour. Alas, we've (vagina and me) outgrown Glamour too. It's sad. Youth really is fleeting, but I can't read another article on how you should act at a summer wedding when you are still the last of your friends to get married. Or what to do when you drink too much at an after work function. I'm not saying these issues aren't important to today's generation of women. I was once one of those women. Now, I need a magazine that understands I want to read about resetting goals after 30. I need a magazine that isn't going to try and convince me that wearing high waisted booty shorts is a hot look for 35 year old me. I need a magazine where the women in it look like me, sound like me, and know how to handle their vaginas.
So I'm sending in that annoying card and subscribing to More. Because I need More in my life. My crows feet need More. My grays need More. My vagina, however, just wants to read the articles.
