Lots, and lots, and lots o' magazines. My parents created and fueled this monster when they purchased my very first magazine subscription to American Girl, the Christmas after I turned 9 (this was pre-Pleasant Company, so no feminine hero dolls with 9,000 era-specific outfits, no boxy mall stores to browse, no books to flip through, no nothing). I remember tearing open the glittery box to reveal the crisp, shiny, debut issue, along with a neatly typed note informing me I was now a member of the elite--I was a subscriber.
My love for AG was faithful and true. I begged my parents for a doll (back when the original line-up was all we had to choose from--Felicity, Kirsten, Samantha and Molly), and was overyjoyed to adopt Felicity Merriman into my heart a Christmas or two later. Lo and behold, my era of tweendom was looming ahead, and AG was tossed over my shoulder in favor of Teen (RIP), American Cheerleader and Seventeen. And with every year I grew older, my selections of glossy reading material altered just slightly along with my latest dramatic life occurrence.
Flash forward to college--I was now receiving 7-8 magazines a month... Domino (RIP) to Cosmo, Vogue and Jane to Real Simple to Glamour and everything in between. Popping open the arched door of my college mailboxes was the highlight of some of my days... instantly, a mediocre test score was forgotten as I got lost in the glistening pages of a brand new magazine. I scrawled notes across pages and admired advertising campaigns with fervent stares. I was hooked. It was over. This was a lifelong relationship, impenetrable by any other force.
Cue my dad. You see, I moved apartments every. single. year. of college... therefore, Pops Moxie got sick of lugging boxes of hundreds of magazines from one apartment to my newest year-long home, a mere .4 miles away from previous year-long home. For a while, he was passively adamant that "no one needs to have this many magazines," which was a phrase that slowly evolved into: "you need to throw these out. now."
Reluctantly, I obeyed. I lazily ripped a few tear sheets, but life got in the way and the little project to save my favorite pages was forgotten. And when college graduation came and went, I was down to a mere box of tattered rags. I bounced off to Birmingham with my collection, and returned several months later, after having weeded down my stash even more.
Fast forward to today... I've gotten better. No twelve-step program necessary. No medication either. While I am still a proud subscriber of an embarrassing number of monthlies, I no longer live with wall-to-wall perfume sampled pages. I have created a system that has allowed me to not only savor my favorite material, but cut down on the wasted space as well! Genius!
To decrease my clutter and hone in on the beautiful bits that made me fall in love with mags in the first place, I elected to continue to add to my mountain of tear sheets. I've torn and torn some more, yielding an unruly pile of papers from floor to ceiling. I've then organized each pile by category, slid those puppies into sheet protectors, and hooked them into binders with dividers arranged by category. Brilliant, I tell you. In all seriousness, it has been pretty good for me. I have my OCD, Type-A traits, but for whatever reason, my magazine organization evaded my hatred for clutter for many a' year. I love the system I have, and it enables me to have a teensy little project each month... you know, when my 12 magazines are shoved into my little P.O. box.
[if you're at all interested in more details about le project, I'll pass them on... it's pretty simple though! just do what works for you. it's easy to even safe magazine covers you're smitten with... it makes finding articles and pictures a breeze, instead of flipping through 900 pages in search of the tips on how to create the perfect blowout.]
So, at present, I receive:
- Marie Claire
- Elle Decor
- House Beautiful
...and I've been known to pick up the occasional Martha Stewart Living, Vogue or US Weekly. What can I say? It's an addiction. I can't help it. It won't rest.
It's not like it's crack or something.
What do you subscribe to? Do you have a method for organizing tear sheets? Do you just toss at the end of the month? What about exchanging with friends? I want to hear!