So much more than a magazine

A long time ago, I went to a far away land all by myself to visit a long lost relative. She asked me to bring 3 things that she was missing from home : smarties, teabags, and Red magazine. I had never heard of this magazine, and devoured it (and some of the smarties) on the journey over there. I came to associate this very swish, glossy, grown up magazine with the lady I went to see - her high flying, exciting life seeming very glamourous to my 18 year old self (looking back, still looks quite glamourous to my 28 year old self!). We had a wonderful time, we shopped, we drank, we went to the ballet, we drank, we saw sights, we drank - you get the picture. The long lost relative became my new found friend, and we still dissolve into fits of giggles when we talk about that week of getting to know each other.

When I got back to my somewhat less glamourous life, I held onto a little bit of that grown up sparkle by buying and reading Red magazine every month. For quite some time it felt like pretending to be a grown up - like listening in on the adults talking downstairs after you've been sent to bed. And then, at some point over the last 10 years, I have genuinely grown into it. I would read it while eating brunch on a lazy weekend morning, while congratulating myself on having the fancy grown up life I had envied.

Then life changed again, I had children, gave up work, and no longer really needed guidance on how to convert my work clothes into an outfit for a night on the town, or which high end nail varnish was the must have colour of the month. But I still love it. The articles are thoughtful and well written, and it still feels like a bit of grown up luxury. I still can't afford any of the clothes on the fashion pages, and I have to read it in 10 minute segments in bed before I go to sleep each night, but I still love every page.

Tonight it reminded me of that long lost relative of 10 years ago, and I smiled.