"Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd." - William Shakespeare


After a few weeks of, admittedly rather unscientific study, I think I can claim that the only reason to cough up the sum required to buy US Vogue, Elle, or Bazaar is the question (to bastardize the bard) of...

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune (e.g., risk your iPhone running out of battery mid-air because your flight is delayed and all your fellow travelers are hogging the power outlets)
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles (and, in desperation, buy a copy of one of the aforementioned trio in order to pass the time)

After being trapped in Newark airport with the August issue of Vogue...I'm leaning towards a third option...alternating between blankly staring at a wall and hazarding bizarre guesses as to the lives of my fellow wanderers. An "Age Issue"...again. Sarah Jessica Parker...again. A disturbing number of articles and ads for plastic surgery...alright there was one page celebrating 63 year old Linda Rodin but, apart from that, I found it impossible to walk away from the magazine without the sensation that devoid of laser eyelifts, surgical jawlifts, or earlobe tucks (seriously?) our lives are doomed.

Next trip...despite the additional weight it adds to my (already insanely heavy) bag...I'm packing a book.  Preferably beauty-based...and vintage...from a time when potions and lotions were fine...but you could be beautiful, at any age, without having a "lobelift".


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