Monday, May 28, 2007
Sassy Like Me
I think I've mentioned it before, but since reading the book How Sassy Changed My Life, I've completely renewed my obsession with Sassy Magazine. In 1988 (age 13) I stumbled on the very first issue of Sassy and I immediately fell in love. I was a bit of a misfit kid -- I liked make-up and fashion and boys and celebs well enough, but everything I liked was about 15 degrees off. By the time I reached, oh, my late 20s, I perceived my quirks as coolness, but as a kid I felt weird. Others felt I was weird too. The editors at Sassy, though, did not think my kind was weird. They thought girls like me were worthy of a teen magazine of our own.
I won't go into why Sassy was so awesome -- you either are a Sassy fan yourself and know why, or you weren't the kind of girl who read the magazine, so nothing I say will convince you (or, you were too old/too young, in which case I give my apologies for these ramblings). All I'll say is that the magazine totally validated my fragile early teen existence and that I SO wanted to be Christina Kelly and pretty much was for the 10 years that was my pre-baby career.
But, every young teenager turns into an older teenager who is embarrassed by her former self. So, once I moved onto British music mags as my periodical of choice, I threw out most of my Sassys. Threw 'em right out. I somehow had the foresight to keep four issues: a random early '90s issue, the much-coveted Kurt And Courtney issue, the Sassiest Boy In America Issue (on a side note, I once interviewed said Sassiest Boy about one of his musical projects and I could barely control myself. He later asked for my email address and it was probably the most spectacular moment of my "I Wanna Be Christina Kelly" working existence), plus, for reasons beyond me, the first post-NYC issue, which is a piece of trash.
Shortly after reading the book, I went a little crazy on eBay and bought six issues from 1988 and 1989 -- they arrived in the post today. I really want to collect some more, but I think I'll have to keep my eye on unwitting garage sale proprietors -- I can't afford to keep eBaying. In the meantime I'll pore over the 10 issues I had and remember the girl I once was while reflecting on the woman I've become. Sigh.