weekend arts & leisure – men’s vogue

If you were to make a list of things the world needs, somewhere between a cure for cancer and additional brand extensions of Oreo cookies would come a men’s version of a women’s magazine. (Some might argue that the world could use a men’s version of a men’s magazine as well but that is a topic for another day.)

And so we have “Men’s Vogue” premiering this month with its fall issue.

Unsurprisingly, Men’s Vogue includes many pages of lavishly produced ads hawking the latest in men’s clothing. The only problem is that there is no latest in men’s clothing. Men’s clothing changes at about the same radical pace as the Penn State football offensive playbook (run up the middle, only faster). Among all the categories of men's fashion, there can be no more frustrating job than designing men’s suits, which outside of an unfortunate period we refuse to name (hint: it starts with a “7”), are just about indistinguishable across the decades. Men’s suit designers are the accountants of the fashion industry, conservatively nipping here and tucking there with the boldest among them adding an additional button to a cuff as a kind of rebellion against the status quo.

Hidden among the ads for clothing, watches, scotch and shoes are more text-oriented pieces we like to call “articles.” These are what help distinguish fashion magazines from fashion catalogues. Also, you have to pay for them.

One theme section, “Driven to Extremes,” consists of a series of profiles of daring men doing manly things such as mountain climbing, Formula 1 racecar driving, war reporting and… auctioneering. Whether it’s lapping competitors at 200 MPH, ducking bullets chasing a story, or hammering down the final price on a simply delightful Brancusi, these men don’t know the meaning of fear!

The critics section doesn’t have any. That is, unless you are an adherent of the “everything’s wonderful” school of criticism. It’s as if the editors hired the media staff of the Defense Department.

Among the pieces is a profile of an acclaimed artist whose specialty is stick figures. You very likely do not see the artistic merit in stick figures. That is because you are not sophisticated enough to grasp the nuance and subtlety of his work. Also, it’s crap.

There is a review of a professional-grade meat slicer the author of which thought it more important in the first couple of pages to go into great detail about his flight to Venice, his conversations with airline personnel, and the social interplay of men’s traditional passion for machines within a broader context of gender identity rather than reviewing, you know, the meat slicer.

A reviewer of an anti-Iraq war book notes excitedly how the author unmasks supporters of the war such at Victor Davis Hanson who has managed to stay concealed by cleverly authoring best-selling books, appearing on cable TV and making speeches throughout the nation. It is possible the author or editors never heard of Hansen since he does not draw stick figures.

An article about a line of expensive Italian watches trumpets that they are “the watches that might have changed the outcome of World War II.” Except the Italians lost so they didn’t.

Another article offers useful advice on assembling the perfect toiletry bag for all your travel needs. And at just $235 ($935 with the leather travel case) it’s a bargain. Sure, that may sound expensive at first, but how many times have you gotten to your hotel room only to find you’ve forgotten your Biotherm Homme Hydra-Detox Moisturizer and it’s twelve at night and dammit the CVS is closed? One time is too many, that’s for sure.

Towards the rear of the issue is a piece in which beautiful women explain what “makes them take notice when a man enters a room.” Model Jacquetta Wheeler starts with “An understated Rolex is fine…”  That works for us if by “understated” she means, “Timex.”  (If you don't know who Jacquetta Wheeler is don't feel bad, you're not alone.  Also, you didn't Google her like we did.)

The magazine does redeem itself towards the end with an article on an ancient Chinese practice of gambling on death matches between fighting crickets.

C’mon, gambling, bugs and death matches. Now THAT’S a men’s magazine.

J.