Confessions of a Teen Magazine Addict

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It was at the tender age of 11, amidst the aisles of a grocery store, that I experienced my first brush with embarrassing teenage obsession. While my mom was busy picking out fresh produce, I wandered over to the magazine rack, where a shiny publication caught my eye. The cover of BOP magazine, with its vibrant pink bubble letters, was impossible to resist. Although the cover prominently featured the dreamy Kirk Cameron, I was immediately drawn to the smaller image of Michael J. Fox nestled at the bottom.

I was a devoted fan of Family Ties, tuning in every evening at 7:30 p.m. in my parents’ room, avoiding the living room like it was some sort of forbidden territory. Little did I know this obsession would take a turn I never saw coming. That day, Michael’s captivating gaze from the magazine cover sparked something within me that I couldn’t quite articulate; I was smitten. I needed that magazine.

But then, my heart sank when I spotted the price tag—$1.95. I could already hear my mother’s familiar refrain: “Maybe later.” This was her polite way of saying, “Not a chance!” I reluctantly flipped through the magazine one last time before returning it, and lo and behold, it opened to a stunning mini poster of Michael J. Fox!

In a moment of reckless abandon, I did something I never thought I would—I stole the poster. “This is wrong!” my conscience shouted, but my teenage hormones overruled, declaring, “But it’s for love!” I snuck the mini poster into my pocket, avoiding the gaze of nearby shoppers, and felt a mix of exhilaration and guilt as we left the store. But once I arrived home and laid eyes on Michael’s glossy image, all my guilt vanished. I tucked him under a book to flatten out the creases, then carefully taped him inside my trusty Trapper Keeper, ready to gaze at him during school.

However, one poster was quickly insufficient. I found myself back at the grocery store, and once again, Michael smiled at me from a new issue of BOP. This time, he was featured as a centerfold, looking like a Canadian Bruce Springsteen, and I couldn’t resist taking it. After that, I nearly lost my lunch from guilt, but my craving for Michael’s images only intensified. I began to realize there were other teen magazines worth exploring. Tiger Beat, for instance, offered charming wallet-sized cutouts!

Soon, I started earning some pocket money and bought my first magazine legitimately. I meticulously cut out every Michael J. Fox pinup I could find, and by the time the New Kids on the Block became a phenomenon, my obsession with teen magazines was in full swing. I didn’t even need to shop at the grocery store anymore, thanks to my friend Tyler, whose stepmother owned a bookstore. Tyler had access to all the latest teen magazines, including the elusive Big Bopper, known for its oversized centerfolds. He sold them at a discount, and if you didn’t snag one in the morning, they were gone by lunch.

Yes, I had a dealer. Don’t judge me!

Despite my walls being plastered with posters—one wall for the New Kids on the Block, another for individual cut-outs of each member, and a special section for my crush, Donnie Wahlberg—I still felt an insatiable desire for more. One fateful morning, I rushed over to Tyler, eagerly anticipating my latest haul. But when he opened his bag, I was met with a YM magazine and a Thrasher. “What am I supposed to do with these? Where’s the good stuff?” I snapped, only to learn that another girl had beaten me to the punch. Her name was Lisa, and consumed with jealousy, I plotted how to reclaim my magazine glory.

I had a problem, and I knew it. Eventually, I apologized to Lisa for my hostile attitude and even turned down her generous offer of an extra BOP issue. That was the point when I phased out my magazine poster craze. I let my subscription to Super Teen lapse and ignored Tyler’s offers of new glossy issues. By year’s end, most of my posters came down, leaving only a couple of Donnie Wahlberg, later replaced by a gigantic poster of Mark Wahlberg in his iconic Calvin Kleins.

Reflecting on that chapter of my life brings a mix of nostalgia and embarrassment. I cherish those carefree days when my biggest worry was how to sneak a poster out of a store, but I also feel a twinge of shame for my past misdeeds. To Tyler, wherever you are, I’m sorry. And to the girl who picked up a BOP magazine only to find a missing pull-out poster: that was me. I confess, and I’m truly sorry.

For more relatable stories, check out this post about navigating teenage challenges. And don’t forget to visit Kindbody for excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination. If you’re looking for an at-home insemination syringe kit, Make A Mom is a reputable online retailer worth checking out.

In summary, my teenage obsession with teen magazines led to some questionable choices, but it was also an exciting phase of my life. Those glossy pages introduced me to a world of feelings and experiences that shaped who I am today.


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