Together, My Magazine and I Can Redecorate Your Life

In a simpler time, it used to be that if you didn’t quite trust Uncle Curtis’ advice on personal finance and investment strategies, you could turn to the venerable pages of Kiplinger’s or Forbes to get the skinny. They were names so tried and true they might as well be family.

That was just it. If someone had mastered a field enough to become synonymous with it, an eponymous publication was a reward, a high-profile branding suggesting you were top of the game. The last word.

From the Robb Report, for one’s top-shelf luxury needs, to Audubon, for contemplative study of wildlife and the great outdoors, one trip to the newsstand could dispense a junk drawer full of knowledge. Such advice and information magazines were the next best thing to having a brother-in-law in the business--but this way you didn’t get the protracted lecture.

And it wasn’t simply in the area of guidance or reference. Mystery lovers could choose between Ellery Queen or Alfred Hitchcock’s assessment of the clues. Voracious speculative fiction buffs could get beamed up by “Asimov.”

But of late, there’s a plethora of personas not just offering us advice, a good yarn or escape--but an entire lifestyle.

Twelve times a year, Martha Stewart opens the doors on one--or several--of her sprawling homes lit in soft, powdery light. In her namesake magazine, Martha Stewart Living, she invites us in and tells us how she creates a “painterly arrangement” or prepares beef Wellington, “the mainstay of serious dinner parties.” And if one of us accidentally tips over that lovely mulled wine, ah, not to worry, Martha can show us all how to get it out in a jiffy with her “holiday stain removal” tips.

Ever Miss Popular, Stewart with her seemingly bottomless supply of advice has led to spinoff quarterlies--Weddings and Baby--for those who don’t want to go it alone--ever.

But lately, Martha has some new neighbors on the stands, not just trying to momentarily distract us, but vying for a deep commitment.

The most fetching diversion, of course, is the queen of talk, Oprah Winfrey, who has attempted to contain her wildly popular afternoon TV bond-fest between two glossy pages. The premier issue--with an initial press run of 1.6-million--was so popular, it quickly became impossible to find. This month, in O magazine, Oprah doesn’t simply offer fashion, food and gift tips, but also imparts “This Month’s Mission”--December’s being “Generosity.” Musings include Oprah’s own reflections on “giving the gift of yourself” and “35 Little Acts of Kindness.”

Not to be outdone, Rosie O’Donnell is ditching the talk show circuit and trying her hand in the old-fashioned print trade as well. In May, the 125-year-old McCall’s, the oldest women’s service magazine, will morph into Rosie’s McCall’s. In making the transition, the idea, says Editor in Chief Cathy Cavender, is to convey Rosie’s personality and interests and causes--from crafts to kids--as she would. And the best way to do that? Well, it’s simple: “We’re spending a fair bit of time getting to know [her].”

Despite the toothy cover smiles and the peppy editor’s notes, making friends this way isn’t an easy business. It’s a bit like a schoolyard popularity contest. Already frozen out? Model-turned-entrepreneur B. Smith and her well-publicized lifestyle mag, B. Smith’s Style. Smith, who was being spun as the “black Martha Stewart,” launched earlier this year, but with the August/September issue, has already been sent packing.

Others have come, made great strides and left their imprint before folding: Lear’s and Mirabella (named for founders Frances Lear and Grace Mirabella) made inroads as magazines for “women of a certain age.” Some eponymous magazines continue to define and redefine themselves, such as Jane Pratt’s maverick women’s monthly with Gen-X ‘tude, Jane, and Steven Brill’s behind-the-curtain look at the media for journalism junkies, Brill’s Content.

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If in the past it was an exercise in education, what nowadays inspires us to invite these otherwise strangers into our homes? What makes us want to listen to their anecdotes and opinions or want to meet their children or role models? What makes us not simply pick up an issue here or there, but fill out those cards and make a commitment? Become their “Sisterfriend”?

“It used to be,” says Samir Husni, a journalism professor at the University of Mississippi, “that having a magazine named after yourself was like a status symbol. It was a sign of ownership.”

Earlier titles, says magazine expert Husni, weren’t household names. “Lear’s and Mirabella, for example, generated promotion from within the media circle. But with the Stewart and Oprah phenomenon, it’s simply the extension of their celebrity status. It all links up to this whole concept of hero-worship more than anything else.”

Laura Shamas, who teaches theater and communications at USC and Pepperdine University, agrees. “In the case of Rosie’s McCall’s and Oprah, people are buying into an American archetype . . . subscribing,” not just to a magazine, but “to their values and world view.”

Shamas, who is the creator of https://www.headlinemuse.com and is particularly interested in the ways pop culture mirrors mythology’s hierarchies, sees this trend--this reaching out--as an inevitable part of a continuum.

Admiring or attempting to emulate a Rosie or an Oprah, suggests Shamas, “is about trying to be your very best.” These powerful women, she explains, in many ways provide us with a modern interpretation of the Greek Pantheon--”When I think about Martha, I think about Hestia, the goddess of home. When I think about Oprah, she represents Athena, wisdom and strategy and fighting for causes. And Rosie is Hera, the goddess of motherhood and wifedom. Which is traditionally what McCall’s has stood for. So it’s a logical fit.”

When women reach for these magazines, says Shamas, it isn’t simply the celebrity status, though that may be where it starts. “Rosie, Martha, Oprah all represent different facets of American women. I think it shows that women are in search of a cultural identity. And these women are actually balancing out what American women really look and are like. They’ve been through struggles . . . and battles--and won.”

Though Shamas may see these magazines as part of a larger “collective consciousness raising,” Husni sees it purely as business. “It’s true. People are buying a personal relationship. They are buying some time. They are holding their hand, taking them into their patio, their bathroom, their bedroom. It’s a way to get close without all of that static. But it’s a copycat business. First you have Martha and Oprah and then you’ll get Jerry Springer and Judy the judge.”

Longevity, suggests Husni, is determined by how relevant and resonant a publication is. Martha Stewart has built a veritable industry, and she has become a brand of her own. Oprah has already shown her staying power on the little screen and beyond. “Oprah transcends age, race, class. And if Oprah is the opium of the people, well,” Husni says, “Rosie is more like crack. It may be addictive, but it could kill you after two doses--if you’re not careful.”