Real Simple, I am breaking up with you.
I fell in love with you because you were so different from the other women’s magazines – magazines like Glamour and Cosmo, which just made me feel bad about myself. I gave those up a few years ago, when I realized that I am never going to look like a photoshopped 15 year old, so I should stop even thinking about trying. Once in a while, Real Simple, you offered me tidbits about khaki slacks for every body type, or great swimsuits, but mostly you taught me about cleaning and organizing, vitamins and tea, and especially about the art of simplicity.
We had some really good times, and I learned a lot, but lately I feel like you’ve lost touch with reality . Every month I’m reading the same articles and “tips” over and over again, and more and more of your pages are dedicated to fashion and makeup…
But this put me over the edge.
A $100 handbag I could see – maybe even $200. But $495?
FOUR HUNDRED AND NINETY FIVE DOLLARS. As an EVERYDAY INDULGENCE.
I’m sorry, old friend. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m a grownup now, and I don’t have time for this foolishness.