I have to admit, I am a bit of a hoarder. To the dismay of Hannah who sighs regularly at my desk of disarray, my inability to put things away as I go along and throw things away when they are of no use. But therein is a dilemma. I can always think of another use or think there may be one at some future date. Our small hoard of glossy magazines is one such issue.
I have built up this wonderful backlog for a number of reasons, one because glossy magazines are perfect for glueing on as there is no transfer of print. The second reason is they are full of inspiration and possible leads. Thirdly they cost a lot in the first place and fourthly, they look good. Well, they do when a few are neatly stacked on your coffee table or perfectly aligned in your bookcase.
I have enough that if you put a glass top on them they would be a coffee table. My Dad gifts his House & Gardens, GQ’s and The World of Interiors to me every visit I pay him. I sneak them in my house and studio like a guilty shopper. I have had to stop my subscription to Elle, Vogue and Harpers Bazaar until such time that my stockpile has diminished. I was also banned from buying any more cups and saucers for similar reasons.
So my morning ritual has moved me and my fresh coffee to the kitchen with the task of going through one magazine a day. I scribble notes and pull out those beautiful pages with remorse. They then sit there for a few days until Hannah nags me to put them away.
Their delegated plastic file looks ugly and feels like an orphanage of pages ripped from their wonderful ancestry. I dismay.