Trash mags with training wheels

Teen glossies walk a fine line between beauty myth and teen reality -- and they stumble often.

By Janelle Brown

Sept. 10, 2001 | Who, you may be asking yourself, is ELLEgirl? Well, she carries her cellphone in a tiny stuffed animal frog; graffitis her own handbags rather than shelling out for Stephen Sprouse-scrawled Louis Vuitton luggage; wears magenta eyeliner and pink fishnets; bleaches her teeth once a week; considers Chloë Sevigny a fashion icon; knows that Sisqo's favorite food is fried chicken; and buys $238 Marc Jacobs strapless dresses.

In other words, if Elle magazine is the 55-year-old matriarch of the high-end fashion glossies, the teen spinoff ELLEgirl -- hitting the stands this month -- is her sassy, somewhat spoiled but ultimately youthful daughter.

There just might be a few thousand teenage girls across the country who fit this exact description (up and coming teenage starlets; precocious daughters of hotel magnates and a few creative and ambitious high schoolers). They now have a magazine to fit their lifestyle. For the rest of teenage America, editor in chief Brandon Holley assures us in the welcome letter of the magazine's first issue, aspiring ELLEgirls can just emulate the personality of actress Julia Stiles, "the ultimate ELLEgirl": "She's confident, attractive, independent and scary smart."

The teen magazine market has undergone a small revolution in the last three years, as magazines for grown-ups have given birth to spinoffs for their nascent teen audiences. People magazine was the first to realize that a huge, pop-culture-crazed high school market was primed for magazines that were a tad more adult than Tiger Beat, but still tailored for their tastes. Teen People merely regurgitated People's formula of celebrity fluff and feel-good profiles of "real people" for the teenage market (i.e., Britney instead of Whitney, Julia Stiles instead of Julia Roberts), and the plan worked: A million teenagers now read the magazine every month.

The second to market was Cosmopolitan's CosmoGIRL! (Which is not to be confused with the similarly named ELLEgirl: Note that CosmoGIRL!, in true Helen Gurley Brown style, capitalizes the GIRL suffix and includes an affirming exclamation point for emphasis, while ELLEgirl demurely focuses on the more elitist French prefix.) CosmoGIRL!, now a million readers strong, was followed by Teen Vogue, a quarterly that currently boasts about 500,000 readers. ELLEgirl, meanwhile, is fashionably late to the party. As yet, we have not been graced with Harper's Junior Bazaar, Lil' Miss O or Girls In Style; but just you wait. (Full disclosure: Two years ago, I wrote Web site reviews for CosmoGIRL!)

By virtue of their ancestry, these new magazines are an odd and somewhat confused lot, especially fashion bible spinoffs like ELLEgirl and Teen Vogue, whose traditional brand images are unaffordable and unattainable chic, but whose teen versions also address the age and interests of their market -- boys 'n' Britney 'n' girl power! They are a breeding ground for little Lolitas, a mishmash of adult imagery and naively youthful concerns, part celeb fanzine and part sophisticated fashion education. They proffer inspirational stories, training courses in self-confidence and even a smidgen of feminism (or, as the ELLEgirl hedges around that dread term on the cover, "Dare we say it? Feminism") -- all packaged alongside gossip, makeup hints and spreads featuring $520 rabbit fur bomber jackets.

In a sense, the new teen mags are tween magazines. They are an amalgamation of the mixed-up, hi-lo messages transmitted to the modern teenager on a daily basis: Be an adult but remain a kid; look sexy but stay a virgin; dress like this model but maintain your own personal style.

The life of a teenager is all about trying to filter these mixed messages under the influence of hard hormones. The mission is to define the line between individual expression and media-defined conformity. Am I wearing low-cut hipster jeans because they express my self-image, or because I was bombarded with Old Navy ads and fashion magazine editorials that suggested that I should buy low-cut hipster jeans?

This dilemma is not unfamiliar to most consumers, but when it comes to the palpable angst of teenagers, glossy magazines are handling flammable goods. Unofficially, these publications are charged with the added responsibility of teaching positive messages. Can they? Should they? What if they say they will and merely pretend?

"It is tough, and you can't underscore enough the responsibility of a teen magazine editor," Holley agrees. "These girls are really important, and it's a big responsibility to live up to their expectations."

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