You wouldn’t guess it from my wardrobe, but I subscribe to Lucky magazine. Is it worth the $12 bucks a year? You bet! Forget the fashions–I read Lucky for the prose stylings. For instance, the October issue has me asking: Are mustard-colored trousers really “huge for fall”? (Is this good news for plus-size women?) Can a lip balm be “adorable”? Is “glowify” an actual verb?
Lucky’s editors are masters of the to-die-for compound modifier. A tote is “intriguingly organic, touchably matte.” Skinny tweed trousers are “distinctly autumnal.” Hair is “sexily unstudied.” (I especially like that one. Dropout chignons, anyone?)
Oh, and the October issue features an ad with Paris Hilton dressed up as a mermaid. It’s no wonder I have trouble getting dressed in the morning.
Najla Amundson says
I love Lucky!
Threewolfy says
I stopped subscribing to Lucky because I couldn’t stand seeing “glowify” and “genius” in every other sentence. Making up words and using actual words in an inappropriate manner are not so bad, but using the same terrible descriptions over and over was driving me crazy!
JHoward says
I must be a glutton for linguistic punishment, Threewolfy, because I still subscribe. Those daffy compound modifiers keep me coming back for more. Still trying to figure out how they manage to do it month after month without any apparent self-consciousness.