I was so excited to find out that the creators of my favourite magazine Mushpit were going to be talking at independent magazine event Raw Print that it didn't matter that it was arctic conditions outside, or that I had nobody to go with (ok that kind of mattered, some dramatic texts were sent to my mum about how I had no friends and would die alone). I went anyway. And I LOVED it.
I found out about the best magazine in the world, ever, through Instagram. So, hey, I guess that app does something other than destroy my self esteem with pictures of models partying and people 'eating clean'. People always say you should never meet your heroes... So luckily I didn't. Instead, I lurked on an uncomfortable stool alone at the back, peering over people's heads and trying to not look too excited.
Before I found Mushpit I had never read a magazine that I could relate to so much (but which would also inspire me... and make me wee a little bit from laughing). Reading Mushpit was like chatting to my friends. For years I have been torn between my love of magazines and fashion and the selection of magazines which are actually out there for people to choose from. I've sometimes felt half guilty when reading magazines like Glamour which, although may include one article endorsing body positivity, this will more than likely be printed on the back of an advert featuring an underweight model. Magazines like these, despite their token gestures towards positive body image or diversity of any kind, still seem to continually perpetuate the idea of perfection being the thin, white woman- born with zero body hair except the blonde locks flowing from her perfectly spherical head. And not only that but after a while, they get a bit boring. But finally something different was here, and it was Mushpit.
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No more bullshit about the best way to remove your body hair or how to get lips like Kylie Jenner. They were finally talking about things I wanted to read about. Feminism, and politics and why the boy you want to snog doesn't want to snog you any more ("if they've snogged you ever then they did fancy you so please stop imaging you somehow woke up disfigured").
Don't get me wrong, I still get excited when I have enough money left at the end of the week to buy the latest Grazia, and who doesn't love doing the quizzes in Cosmo? But it's just nice to have a balance, and know that that's not all that is out there.
So thanks, Mushpit. Love you forever.
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