an open letter to Lucky magazine

Dear Lucky,


I have subscribed to your magazine since its inception, thanks to an unbeatable introductory offer, and I’ve been a subscriber ever since. One of my favorite monthly rituals is to soak in a hot bubble bath and read the latest issue, lusting after all the beautiful clothes and shiny objects.


Well, I read something in the March 2005 issue---page 175, to be exact---that almost made me drop it in the tub. In Jean Godfrey-June’s column, she writes: “There’s no substitute for either of the Laura Mercier concealers, and when people ask me for my single desert-island essential, it’s like Sophie’s Choice: Would I rather look tired or broken-out?”


HELLO?!


Were Jean and the editors huddled in the wardrobe room, giggling and passing around a huffer bag full of nail polish remover, or do you honestly not know what Sophie’s Choice is about? Well, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume the latter, so let me fill you in: the choice that Sophie must make is which child she has to send to the Auschwitz gas chamber. Gosh, that sure would be easier than picking a favorite Laura Mercier concealer, huh? Sophie sure had it easy compared to Jean Godfrey-June! Just think if she had to choose between her kids and Laura Mercier...now that would have been a real pickle!


Now, don’t get me wrong; I know that Sophie’s Choice is fictional, but the Holocaust was not, and to use it as a throwaway punchline in a fluffy magazine about shopping, for chrissakes, seems a little…oh…OFFENSIVE to me. What’s next? “How to Be a Holocaust Survivor---Or Just Look Like One”? "Schindler's List of Essential Fall Fashions"?


Lest you think I’m just a joyless, easily offended woman who has nothing better to do than write letters to magazines, I assure you that’s not the case. It’s pretty hard to shock me---as anyone who’s known me for more than five minutes can attest---but this certainly did the trick. Perhaps I’m just a tad more sensitive to the issue now that I'm dating a Jewish man, but I'd like to think this would offend me no matter what.


Well, congratulations, Lucky. You’ve finally proven yourself to be the airheaded piece of tripe your detractors have always accused you of being.


Sincerely yours,


[my real name]