when I was 17

I was surfing around looking for pictures when I stumbled upon the exact article I cut into teensy pieces and collaged across my world when I was a teenager. Which reminded me of just how much the Seventeen magazines I read in the late nineties affected my brain.
Parents are still trying to dissect the appeal of teenage publications, occasionally attempting to censor issues with articles that dare to expose their children to things they already learned in a sixth grade health class (or, predictably, on the third grade playground).
If only I could console them…
By telling them that Seventeen had a huge effect on me - but only on the music I listen to and the clothes I wear, and my undying love for everything Sofia Coppola (and occasionally my literary voice - I got that whole sophisticated-2o-something-woman trying to sound like a 14-year-old-girl thing down. Girlfriend).
If it weren’t for Seventeen, I would have never heard of Built by Wendy, Cibo Matto, Hard Candy, or Bjork (who was on the cover of one of the first Seventeen’s I ever bought).
In other words, my whole artistic aesthetic would be completely off.
The Seventeen I read was run by a group of post-grunge/pre-dot-com individuals who didn’t care about the status quo and repeatedly put obscure things in their pages. Things like fashion spreads featuring socks with (relatively inexpensive!) high heels, shopping sprees with the Sneaker Pimps, and interviews that explained why the Cardigans were more than just that Love-fool song. Unfortunately magazines are all about the status quo, and things changed pretty swiftly right around when I was nearing the actual age of 17.
Some might say I just outgrew the thing, but the editor-in-chief actually changed right around then, and my younger sister stopped reading it shortly after that as well. So I say my “things were better in my day” old-timer rant is fully justified.