Journal of Magazine Media

I was not, in fact, seventeen during my Seventeen magazine days, so reading it felt like sneaking a peek over the shoulder of an older, wiser girl. I was the youngest of three, growing up in a mild-mannered midwestern household. I fretted over my looks and feared that my young teen body was going to betray me, in a world of droopy gym suits, uh-oh periods, and perpetual acne.

Seventeen wanted me to be better—sleeker, cooler, decked out in denim flares and light-blue eye shadow. The magazine gave me handy tips that I eagerly tried. Face shape was a big deal, according to the editors, so I dutifully used a piece of soap to trace my face on the bathroom mirror. Oh, thank goodness. My face was an oval, the type O of face shapes. One less thing to worry about.

But for an insecure teen girl, there were many other ways to fall short, and Seventeen invited me to find and fix them all. I wish I could say I viewed that as a rewarding challenge.

What fun it would have been to be an impressionable young teen in 1988, when Sassy magazine debuted. Twenty-first-century Rookie would have blown my twentieth-century mind. The subtle body-shaming of 1970s and ’80s Seventeen nibbled away at my self-confidence. And to be fair to the Seventeen editorial staff of the day, the advertising was no help either, as it featured unattainable clothing, complicated beauty regimens, and willowy models.

The late 1970s and early 1980s were the sweet spot for my Seventeen habit; and when I hunted down issues from that era, I was surprised by how the stories veered from demure to worldly. The January 1979 cover featured a wholesome-looking girl wearing a pink bow and cover lines touting sewing and calorie cutting, as well as these questions: “Must you tell your mother everything?” and “Should you try to change him?” (I [End Page 17] hope my answers at the time were no and no.) The following month, the cover promised to explain disco mania, while also presenting a sixteen-page bridal and honeymoon special. Head-scratcher.

Throughout the issues of this era, there were serious service articles about coping with alcohol and divorced parents; but any story not about beauty, fashion, or boys rolled right off my back.

No one suggested that I would become a feminist by reading girls’ magazines. And to be fair, researchers found that Seventeen’s content skewed more feminist friendly in 1965, 1975, and 1985, high points for the first, second, and third waves of feminism. However, that focus dropped off in the years between.

I never got a message from the magazine about how to make a difference in the world; instead, I scoured its pages looking for advice on how to fit in. Looking back, I realize that I, a future single-gal journalist, was more inspired by the smart and striving news producer played by Mary Tyler Moore. Alas, the models gracing the pages of Seventeen were not the role models I needed. [End Page 18]