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====================================================== 
CROPDUSTER -- Issue 1
Copyright 1992 by Steven Meece and Chris Woodill
======================================================

This is the ASCII version of the zine. It contains everything you would 
receive in the real zine except for pictures and the feel of authenticity. If
you would like to receive the paper edition, send $1.10 for the United States
or 86 cents for Canada to:

Cropduster 
79 O'Hara Avenue  
Toronto, Ontario 
M6K 2R3

All other enquiries should be directed to that office as well. The editors are
also available by international e-mail at:

ad522@freenet.carleton.ca (Steven Meece) 
cwoodill@epas.utoronto.ca (Chris Woodill)

Naturally permission is granted to distribute Cropduster in any way you would
like, but please leave it as it is so that others can see our mistakes as
well. If you have a problem, don't take it out on a text file: Tell us.

==============
Editor's Words
Steven Meece
==============

Cropduster was born as a summer make-work project by the 
editor. Why teeny mags? We have found them to be very 
entertaining, because they are meant to be. They really try 
too hard to be constantly entertaining without providing a 
single break from the action. Maybe this is the way life 
really is in the United States. Reading one of these 
magazines is like watching television or eating food. They 
also let us know of what we are missing because we are not 
female, and because of the sad-but-true fact that the 
readers of these magazines would have nothing to do with us.

We decided to not critique Sixteen, Tiger Beat, Superteen, 
Smash Hits, and so on, because they cover the personal lives 
of Luke Perry and not the personal lives of grade niners. 
'Teen magazine was also absent from reviews because it is 
slipping into this category. We reviewed only American 
magazines because to our knowledge, there are no Canadian 
equivalents. Wanting girls in this country will have to 
borrow their mother's Chatelaine.

This issue was electronically produced. The articles were 
composed on Appleworks v2.0, and the layout and construction 
was the domain of First Publisher vx.x. The Apple platform 
was an Apple IIc, and the MS DOS platform was a clone named 
"COM Micro Computer". The files were transferred using Talk 
Is Cheap v2.03 on the Apple side and Telix v3.44 on the MS 
DOS side.

Apologies and rights reverted to YM, Sassy, Seventeen, and 
all others where necessary. The publishers and/or authors 
are not responsible for any of the content printed within.

The concept and most of the writing was undertaken by Steven 
Meece, while the introduction, layout and dogsbody was the 
responsibility of Christopher "cw" Woodill. Steven Meece is 
attending Carleton University in Ottawa in the religion 
programme, and cw is attending the University of Toronto in 
the philosophy & semiotics programme.

Produced using grants from Gary Woodill and Heather Meece, 
who are always more than pleased to bankroll the creativity 
of their children.

Comments, questions, anecdotes, lawsuits to:

Crop Dusters
79 O'Hara Avenue
Toronto Ontario
M6K 2R3

This publication is dedicated to the memory of the Neopsychedelic Underground.

==========================
Pop Culture: An exposition
Chris Woodill
==========================

As an issue, pop culture has various definitions.  It can be
defined by various things, including the clothes people wear, the
attitudes they hold, and the music to which they listen.  It
seems that our generation (everyone born after about 1970) has
yet to discover its own pop-culture, for unlike our baby boom
parents, we have yet to spread our wings.  

Cropduster revolves, as perhaps everything does, around the
substance that one calls pop-culture.  With various jargon thrown
around including: post-modernism, nihilism, etc. in an attempt
for one generation to understand the next, people forget what the
essence of pop-culture really is - a collection of somewhat
useless artifacts which are given exceptional value by groups of
people.  What we hope to show is not the trends but rather the
idols of pop-culture.  We hope to convey the simplicity of
everyday life through the icons which lead generation upon
generation onwards.  In this way, perhaps one reading this can
make a subjective interpretation of the trends of culture; but
this is not our own objective.  Rather, we hope to portray the
post-boomer child as he or she really is, by critically examining
the icons in which the child is represented.

As member of the post-boom generation, the authors must
include themselves in their ridicule, praise and examination.  I
think that this is perhaps necessary in any endevour, for only
self-reflection leads true results.  Thus, this journal is not
intended to be rigourous, for lack of rigour is one of the
characteristics of the pop-culture in which we reside.  

Many of the articles presented here are true in fact,
without any changes in names, places, etc.  We make no pretence
that we represent our generation, nor do we make any pretence
that has any objective value in it at all.  For this is not a
sociology textbook, nor is it a psychology journal.  Rather, this
appears at the moment to be a compilation of minor life
experiences, which hopefully will give someone value.

======================
Young & Modern / Missy
======================

The dish:

YM is supposed to stand for "Young and Modern." Until a few 
years ago it stood for "Young Miss," but the editors decided 
that the title was too prissy and waif-like for the gritty 
reality experienced by young girls today. It is theorized 
that girls would rather be modern than a miss, which seems 
to be like two coins with the same side. 

The pages are quite glossy, and the magazine has a 
particular smell to it. The pages don't feel like paper. The 
girlie on page twenty really looks like cw's half-sister 
Jacoba. 

The second thing we noticed about this issue and possibly 
this magazine is that its sole purpose seems to be the 
promotion of maquillage. The magazine is bulked up by 
advertisements for various-makeup products, many of the 
reader inquiries include queries about the proper kind of 
blush to use, and they themselves find that makeup is the 
central core of any young and modern girl's existence. Other 
things are delved into, but they are never treated with the 
same amount of respect.

We tallied 32 of 104 pages consisting of full page singles 
advertisements, and four doubles (Cover Girl, Maybelline, 
"Caboodles" and Paul Mitchell Hair Products). 

     BELIEVE IT: When your make-up looks this natural, you 
     know it's Clean.

     One look says it all. Natural. Believable. Beautiful. 
     That look is Cover Girl Clean Make-up (tm). So good to 
     your skin. So clean. With pure Noxzema (r) ingredients. 
     For healthy colour. Honest coverage. The look of great 
     skin. That's the believable look of Clean Make-up.

We found an oxymoron in the term "clean make-up". To be 
changed from the natural (which is to say, clean) you need 
to be made up into something different, and therefore you 
need something called "make-up" to do that. 

The girls in these advertisements had the particular quality 
of not resembling human beings at all. There is some heavy 
airbrushing going on here. They don't even look human 
anymore, of particular note is the girl squinting eyes, 
crunching paper and sticking out her tongue in the 
Maybelline double-ad. The girl for the Tampax one on page 
four looks like a real person, with a black turtleneck 
sweater and blue leggings with numbers on them.

     Doing anything for the first time can be tricky. But 
     trust the makers of Tampax to come up with a tampon 
     that's a total cinch for girls like you to...

The curious thing about this girl is that she appears to be 
falling over backward for no discernible reason. 

"Say Anything" is a collection of reader-submitted 
embarrassing experiences and Freudian slips. The staff then 
rates these harrowing exploits with one to four stars, the 
four-star ranking being "Ultimate supremo humiliation". This 
section is in actuality the most titillating thing you'll 
see in YM. Hold onto your hats, this is heavy chick-talk: 
The reason you bought the mag, right? The next best thing to 
Peeping Tom-ing a slumber party. This month yielded three 
four-stars, the first being about a girl exposing her 
breasts during a school play, the second about a girl who 
had her clothes ripped off by a ski-lift, and the third 
involved a girlie having a tooth fall out during heavy 
petting and having Prince Charming swallow the thing. There 
were a few experiences at being ignored by a "guy" despite 
all intentions, and one about a girl's dad sitting on the 
crapper. Our favourite, although it was only given three 
stars, was about a girl who 'accidentally' bought a dildo. 
She thought it was a curling iron. Dr Freud would love these 
magazines almost as much as we do.

The letter section found Jetha Marek from the Bronx 
questioning the real value of makeup, which went unanswered 
by Bonnie and crue. Crosstalk asked, "Should you stay with a 
boyfriend who pressures you for sex?" and no specific answer 
was given. Neither of the sides advocated that the victim 
"do it" with her boyfriend, but Kim Kaan of Tempe Arizona 
said that you should ignore him. The eponymous Jennifer Wise 
of Stockton, Kansas (the probable setting of Tony Parker's 
^Bird Kansas^, Knopf 1989) "will only have sex when I am 
ready for it," when-ever that may be. She gets into the 
Puritan ethic of ^The Cosby Show^ by getting steamed over 
the inevitable results of sex before the wedding night: "a 
damaged reputation, an unplanned pregnancy, or a sexually 
transmitted disease like AIDS". Kaan is in her second year 
at Arizona State University, but her arguments remain thinly 
veiled rants lacking in intelligence.

The "Body Q&A" is not as erotic as you may hope. They 
discuss different types of soap (superfatted or emollient, 
transparent or glycerin, deodorant, french milled, 
synthetic, acne and cleansing lotion) and publish 
photographs of the tatoos of Julia Roberts, Jody Watley, 
Roseanne Barr, Cher, Stephanie Seymour and "Roshumba".

The crue hit the beach, photographed nine surfpeople and 
asked them "If your surfboard were a girl, who would she 
be?" These questions were answered honestly. Three of the 
seven dudes picked one of several fashion models. One guy 
said his mom. Bud Struck wanted his surfboard to be a porno 
star. This article was a veiled excuse for publishing 
pictures of surf gods, with little erect boy-nipples.

The guy thing continued without another survey, "What's the 
worst thing you've ever done to a girl?" Answers: three 
dumpings on prom night, physical assault, yelling derogatory 
comments from a car window, cheating, raping a drunkard, 
crank calls, and one guy who puked on a chack.

YM also contains the now-obligatory ad for "Teen Spirit" 
which remains "the Only Anti-perspirant For Teens". This one 
pictures three happy-go-lucky girls whooping it up at a 
carnival and presumably stinking up the joint in the 
process. The girl in the middle looks like Lloyd's mom!

     The guy I'm going out with broke up with his girlfriend 
     two weeks before we started dating. He swears they're 
     just friends, but they flirt a lot, and he ignores me 
     when she's around. Should I be worried?

We took the quiz to see if we were in fact boring. I had 
long suspected that this was the case and the proof was 
given when I scored 24 out of a possible high of 30 
boringness points. cw, the freak that he is, was only 19.

"My stepfather sexually abused me" was an article that 
seemed to be more geared as entertainment than information. 
It was presented in a voyeuristic tendency, viz. the 
first-page oversized sidebar quote "Just about every night, 
he'd get in bed with me after Mom had gone to sleep." These 
attempts at titillation belong on ^A Current Affair^, not 
for in a rag for 'teens.

"Twenty-five ways to get a job this summer" was merely a set 
of guidelines on how one can be a pest to one's neighbours 
and parents by continually trying to weasel money from them 
for useless services that enrich neither party in any 
tangible way.

cw was miffed by the bikini photo section, remarking that 
the girls were skanky little teenagers with little boobs 
trying to be grown-ups. I had to agree with him on this 
area. Swimsuits that are $70 US are too expensive for most 
babysitters anyway. He also found exception with the 
fat-busters article, which offered up low-fat substitutes 
for high-fat products. In his typical Newfoundlander 
common-sense attitude, he suggested that the dieter 
substitute wind and water for a Haagen Dazs ice-cream binge. 
"Why doncha just eat nothing?"

The Tom Cruise interview was written in such a holy-shit 
manner that it isn't even worth the energy to type about it. 
This magazine is truly American trash, but like food fried 
up by Ronald McDonald, it sometimes gives a curious 
pleasure.

     Your best friend recently became part of a twosome, and 
     your life has changed - for the worse. Forget about 
     calling each other two or three times a week and 
     getting together on weekends. These days you're lucky 
     if you can even reach her on the phone, and whenever 
     you see her, she's with him.

The horoscopes were uniformly false. I told cw that he would 
meet "a cool guy with killer looks" on the fourteenth. He 
did not seem to be too anxious.

The magazine is closed by four pages of postage-stamp 
advertisements for fly-by-night fat camps, modelling 
societies, correspondence highschools, and photo reprinters. 

Of all of the magazines reviewed in ^Crop Duster^, YM seems 
to paint the most pessimistic picture of youth today. YM 
worships at the trough of animated mannequins, offering up 
such notorious no-brains such as Linda Evangelista as role 
models for our sisters and daughters!

It appears that being young and modern is not a very good 
condition for the soul. YM implicitly believes that the 
acquisition and sustaining of a boyfriend must be the 
central focus in the goals of a girl, yet YM itself 
showcases that most boyfriends are albatrosses at best, and 
eventually only cause trouble. YM does not see the 
contradiction of instructing its readers to pursue the 
romantic ideal while admitting that Prince Charming is most 
likely a goof.

Someone who is young and modern must be a clothes horse, 
willing to apply massive amounts of varying kinds of makeup, 
able to spend extravagantly on clothes, diet, use the right 
kind of soap, wear a two-piece bikini and kowtow to a jerk 
boyfriend who may or may not be stolen by your best friend. 
If you cannot reach those levels, you are done like a 
dinner. This magazine portrays female adolescence correctly, 
as a series of banalities adding up to a tremendous 
omnipresent burden. They recognize the faults of this value 
system, but lack the conviction to attempt to bring about 
changes. Espousing of deviant philosophies (to burn your bra 
or your rouge) could cause what Jennifer Wise fears more 
than AIDS, which is "a damaged reputation". Young Miss 
readers cannot liberate themselves because they are too busy 
trying to condition themselves for social acceptance.

=====
Sassy
=====

The dish:

If you have a ring through yr nose and believe that The 
Butthole Surfers speak directly to you, Sassy will be your 
bag. Witness this from the letters section:

     Dear Jane: I was going to send you this comic strip way 
     before your "staff hate mail awards" ["Diary," April]. 
     I swear! My purpose was to show you that a way cool 
     cartoonist like Lynda Barry has her comic strip 
     character reading a way cool magazine like Sassy [only 
     one panel shown below]. So I am glad that you're 
     "spreading like the plague"! 

Complete with spelling errors, this is the handbook of the 
hippest home slices this side of Seattle. Hip though it may 
appear to be, the Kurt Cobain-meets-Frankie Avalon article 
on "Surf Punks" (p 46) features the grunge lady wearing $154 
worth of clothes (not even counting those big clunky boots) 
as she looks nihilistic. Anarchy in the USA? Not when you 
look like that.

However, Sassy may be a victim of its demographic. In the 
hopes of hitting the mark, they constantly engage in 
overkill, as if their audience could never accept anything 
but affirmations of what they already are. Instead of giving 
the message that information on the cover photograph is on 
page fourteen, Sassy has to say

     For a veritable hoedown of info about our cover, fee fi 
     fiddly-i oh-ver to page 14.

This gets very boring very fast. Almost every other sentence 
has to have a few words of teen-lingo inside of it to keep 
the readers awake. Do the editors of Sassy wish to keep 
these people sassy forever? Honestly, this stuff sounds as 
if it is being spoken in the next Bill and Ted sequel. 
Because of this constant gee-whiz overtone, Sassy is unable 
to sound sincere when it deals with serious issues.

     Scorpio (Oct 23 - Nov 21)
     Partnerships are key to success this mo' (except for 
     hassle-causing bratty sibs on the 10th). Break with 
     routine on the 12th - you need a change. On the 16th 
     you get what you ask for. Hang near water on the 21st 
     for serenity and Esther Williams-y exercise. Day to 
     Savor [sic]: 11th. Scratch Off Your Calendar [sic]: 
     29th.

The "Cute Band Alert" further restricts Sassy readers into 
this teenage pigeonhole. The Cute Band Alert is just that -- 
"Alert! Here is a new band with a cute bass player!" and 
they publish a picture. This kind of narcissism is taken to 
a further extreme with the "Sassiest Boy in America" contest 
held every winter, in which readers can nominate their 
boyfriend or brother as the epitome of sass. Who is the idol 
figure of Sassy readers? Anyone who has sideburns, 
Lollapalooza tickets, a backward-turned baseball cap, and 
calls himself "a feminist".

Sassy takes a different slant than the other three mags: It 
supposedly includes the reader in the personal lives of the 
editors. Editors and staff contributors refer to themselves 
in the first person, and the reader is supposed to feel 
chummy with Jane, Lew, Christina, Margie, Jacinta, Mary, 
Kim, Mary Kaye, Anne V, Andrea T, Janet, Mary Ann, and a 
whole slew of others. They're supposed to be as familiar to 
the readers as their cafeteria mates.

Positively, Sassy does contain the most record and book 
reviews of any of the three mags, but these are limited. The 
books are always the latest released kid books, the music 
the latest six-month shelf life stuff, and the "movies" are 
always what's playing down at the mall. "Stuff You Wrote" is 
a poetry-and-quip feature that is passable but is slowly 
shrinking month by month. Most of the poetry is kinda the 
same, and an attempt at therapy - the desire to get 
something out of one's system and not so much to create work 
that transcend the medium and develop relevance on several 
different planes. Still, the concept is commendable and the 
neglect of this feature is not so good.

Sassy is still the only magazine that mention the words 
"vagina" and "penis" as if they are related to each other (p 
26) but they are very careful when they do it. Sassy does 
set itself apart from the other two, but this difference is 
shrinking.

The ads in Sassy are largely those of YM, primarily 
disposable haircare products, and disposable music products. 
May of the exact same ads appear in all three magazines. 
Again - the ads, like the magazine itself, never leave the 
realm of the day to day distractions of a fifteen and a half 
year old.

Was it always like this? This short-sightedness is a new 
development. Sassy is the newest of the magazines profiled 
here, having made it's debut in March of 1988 (compared to 
1941 for Seventeen and 1952 for the original Young Miss), 
and therefore determined to take a new approach in order to 
defeat the giants. This was a very ribald approach indeed -- 
they mentioned sex honestly and reflected teenage life for 
what it really is. Someone also once let the cat out of the 
bag that women, especially young women, actually look better 
without makeup than with it. A flap arose by the end of the 
year, and a group of "concerned parents" expressed their 
outrage that their daughters were being told about dirty 
subjects. Maybelline and Tampax were scared, expressed their 
fears to Jane, and Jane buckled under. Sassy now is just as 
flighty as the other magazines, and it actually spreads lies 
in order to keep the status quo intact of the legions of 
daughters that read the magazine.

A further slide happened late in 1991 when Sassy changed the 
physical size -- from an oversized square to a regular 
notebook size. Soon after, the magazine underwent yet 
another layout overhaul and now is as active as an MTV 
commercial with mixed-font headlines and text, and dingbats 
by the dozen.

Weather or not it loses in editorial quality is irrelevant, 
as long as it can keep a number of girls interested enough 
to read it. For magazines are essentially trojan horses for 
getting the reader to look at advertisements, just as the 
only purpose of commercial television is use the guise of 
entertainment to round up an audience to sit through the 
commercials. Why do magazine articles break up after two 
pages, to be "continued on page 132"? To get the reader to 
turn through the next sixty pages, all while looking at the 
ads.

It is a well-known marketing maxim that nothing should be 
changed unless it is not working in its current incarnation. 
The only thing that matters in the magazine publishing 
business is to deliver the market to the advertisers. If 
they are able to do this, everything else will soon fall in 
line. Sassy needs to get girlies and keep them interested in 
the product in order to survive. Constant changes in the 
style of the magazine seem to indicate that Sassy can not 
seem to get it right. Is Sassy stumbling? It could very well 
be. The reduction in size was a cost-saving measure, as the 
copy price did not decrease. Sassy is the shortest of the 
profiled magazines (88 pages at a cover price of $2.50 
equals 2.84c per page) while YM and Seventeen deliver more 
product at a cheaper price (104 pages, $2.75, 2.64c per page 
and 120 pages, $2.50, 2.08c per page respectively). Free 
enterprise keeps the newsstand prices to within twenty-five 
cents of each other, but Sassy is producing the least amount 
of magazine for that price -- a full thirty-two pages less 
than Seventeen. Naturally there is no such thing as 
frugality, and if Sassy could have sold an extra thirty 
pages of ads, they would have done it.

Sassy has the lowest 12 month subscription cost, at $10, in 
comparison to $14 for Seventeen and $18 for Young Miss. This 
translates to less than 50% of the potential newsstand 
costs. While subscriptions eliminate many of the 
distribution channels and therefore are cheaper for the 
reader, this still translates to a net loss in sales revenue 
for the Sassies. Then why pump up subscriptions?

To increase the readerbase to make the magazine more 
attractive for advertisers. It is hoped that many people 
will commit to twelve issues at a cheaper price, which 
provide for a greater circulation figure to present to 
potential advertisers, which hopefully translates to more 
advertising funds to offset the loss in sales revenue.
 
Sometimes this method works, and often it doesn't. This 
ponzi scheme killed the original incarnation of ^Ms^ after 
it sold a tonne of subscriptions at a dirt cheap price but 
could not translate those figures into more advertisements. 
It is a very risky gamble, and is often a last-ditch attempt 
made in desperation and fear and trembling. It will be 
interesting and informative to see if the subscription price 
for Sassy continues to deflate.

The Sass-meisters seem to be caught in a delicate circle. 
Sassy was forced away from its old positions that made it 
quirky, interesting, daring, and worth looking forward to 
each month. However, there is no demand for a Young & Modern 
clone, which is the direction that Sassy may have to drift. 
Sassy is an entity at sea in search of a demographic, which 
is a very perilous thing to be.

=========
Seventeen
=========

The dish:

Seventeen is the oldest of the group here, and in both the 
literal and figurative senses it remains the mother of all 
teenage mags. It is still the most professional, most 
entertaining, and most professionally produced of the 
magazines. But this is a small market, and ^The New Yorker^ 
it aint. The fashion features of Seventeen are the best 
photographed, and the ads go beyond the norm a few times.

But even Seventeen has seen better days. The June 1992 was 
weighing in at a rather svelte 120 pages, while as recently 
as April 1986 it was 216 pages. A perusal of that issue 
finds several ads for General Motors, Rice-a-roni, 
"Chadwicks of Boston," and a feature film. This is an 
indication that Seventeen, at that time, was almost a 
"general interest" magazine, the two biggest of this genre 
being Time and People. Certainly that is not the case any 
longer. There are only a few ads in this category. The 
remainder of the magazine is bulked up with YM-style ads for 
Clearsil, Cover Girl, and Caboodles (a neon-coloured makeup 
lunchbox). One thing hasn't changed, though, and that is the 
last pages are ripe with postage-size black and white ads 
for mail-order firms specializing in bust growing schemes, 
photo enlargement operations, Groucho Marx glasses & 
moustache ("fool your friends"), and fat camps. There's a 
send-in application to "The Art Institute of Pittsburgh, Ft 
Lauderdale Campus."

Well. It appears that every girly magazine is suffering in 
one way or another, and for what reason? The time-frame of 
six years is too brief to suggest a shrinking age bracket 
and a smaller supply of young girls interested in beauty and 
boyfriend tips. It is also too McLuhan to suggest that the 
magazine concept is becoming obsolete and out-of-date. It is 
a curious situation.

     LONG-DISTANCE LASHES: The mascara that lasts as long as 
     you do.

     Marathon Mascara really goes the distance. Keeping 
     lashes long, dark and beautiful, no matter what you do! 
     So go ahead, put it to the test. Marathon looks just 
     put on, 'til you take it off. MARATHON MASCARA

     COVER GIRL Renee Jeffus is wearing Soft Black.

     R E D E F I N I N G  B E A U T I F U L

But it would be premature to jump the gun and label 
Seventeen as YM trash. The editorial slant does not suffer 
from the laugh-track style happiness that infects Sassy. 
Seventeen, after all, is the rag that published Sylvia Plath 
in 1950. (She was also published in the Ladies Home Journal 
and the Pi Delta Gamma Review, but ignore that.) The issue 
reviews carried a very good fiction piece, actually worthy 
of reading. It wasn't promoted very much, and appears in the 
contents page as "FICTION: Leftovers by Cathi Hanauer". You 
can't have too much, and this is a passing barb at best. She 
also wrote the "Relating" column, which is an advice column 
to the lovelorn.

The letters page was semi-interesting. Seven of the ten 
letters were feedback regarding some kind of self-abuse or 
suffering happening at the hands of the readers. One letter 
was concerning school-leavers, three about eating 
disorders, two about the persecution of the small-boobed, 
and one about being stuck in the wrong corner of a love 
triangle. Maybe it is only here that these girls are able to 
admit that they are real people, and that is all they are. 
Because if the girls can't admit that, they're lying to 
themselves. Only then will they believe what the advertisers 
say.

The cover girl was Samantha Mathis, which would be reason 
enough to buy the whole thing. Yet, you don't get what you 
pay for, because the cover feature translated to two 
decent-sized pictures and 1/3rd of a page of text. cw (a 
crack semiotician) called attention to the smaller picture 
of the girl on a Californian beach. She appears to be 
crouching down, and the shorts she is wearing have pulled up 
a bit at the back, exposing a little bit of her ass. cw 
pointed to the spot on the picture and smirked.

The girl on page 17 looks quite a bit like Lisa Habib from 
Miz Laroche's history class at the Streetsville highschool. 
That was where all the girls lived. It was the total 
re-definition of egregiousness for me, I'll tell you that. 
At lunches I'd go behind the portables with my walkman and 
listen to Son House's 1965 recording of Death Letter Blues. 
I'd have to jack up the volume to the deafness range so that 
the steel-bodied National guitar would drown out the 
blup-blup-blup of Camaroes tearing through the parking lot.

Page 24 finds a page on specialized swimsuits, and how to 
use them to accentuate your body features. Also included is 
a group of exercises YOU can use to trim unsightly soft 
bits. 

Batter down the hatches for the "Sex & Your Body" column. 
It's hot stuff. The sub-title is "Are You Experienced?":

     There's generally a sort of hierarchy of experiences, 
     with hand-holding and kissing at the bottom and 
     intercourse at the top. But in between the list gets 
     pretty blurry. When everyone you know talks about 
     everything they do and grill you about everything you do, 
     you may ot be able to avoid having your sexual 
     experience (or lack of it) be public knowledge... the 
     trick is too respect your body and your beliefs enough 
     to always protect yourself, first and foremost, and to 
     do what's truly right for you.

Then they pick four letters dealing with this topic. The 
first two are of average level, but after that it gets 
pretty hairy. The final two letters, printed verbatim:

     I am a virgin and I intend to stay a virgin until I get 
     married. Instead of having sex, my boyfriend and I do 
     everything else. The other night he used his fingers. I 
     know it sounds gross, but I don't know how else to put 
     it. Well, afterward, I started to bleed. Does this mean 
     I'm not a virgin anymore? Did he pop my cherry?

and:

     My best friend Stacy lied to her boyfriend and told him 
     that she wasn't a virgin. Now she's afraid that if she 
     has sex with him he'll know she's a virgin because 
     she'll be tight or it'll hurt. She's afraid to tell him 
     the truth because she thinks he'll hate her for lying. 
     If a guy's experienced, can he tell if a girl is a 
     virgin?

Pretty crazy stuff, better not let Mom see it. Seventeen is 
coming perilously close to reality. The former letter 
affords an opportunity for moralizing: The Young Lady should 
take Debra Kent's advice and do some thinking for herself, 
and maybe then she will shed some of her hypocrisy. She is 
trapped between two conflicting desires: To "just do it," 
and to preserve the sanctitude of what she calls "my 
cherry". The unpoppable cherry has nothing to do with it, 
because virginity is not a biological label, but a state of 
mind. This girl is running the gamut of "his fingers" and 
many Latin terms and what-have-you, and certainly it is 
stretching it a bit to call her an untouched virgin bride, 
which is the way she would prefer to exist.

She owes honesty to the mythical husband-to-be. If she wants 
to be a virgin bride, more power to her, but she should see 
to it that she *is* untouched. Obviously this appears to be 
beyond her means. If she wants to do these deeds with the 
boyfriend, more power to her. This girl has to learn that 
she has to take responsibility for her actions, and that she 
cannot deliver the goods and still claim her virginity.

But again, Seventeen usually redeems itself enough to make 
it worth the $2.50 cover price. (BTW: North-west 
Mississaugeans can find the latest copy of Seventeen in the 
magazine rack of the Streetsville Public Library @ 132 Queen 
St South.) There was a little bit of truth in this issue, 
too. It was found in the article by Ann Patchett with the 
yuk title "How to Survive a Breakup":

     If this guy is still the centre of every conversation 
     you're having six months after the big B, you've got to 
     ask yourself if you're really trying to get over him. 
     Maybe you think that you'll be closer to him if you 
     live in the past or that he'll see your love as true if 
     you refuse to let go. Calling his house and hanging up, 
     waiting around in the school parking lot to catch a 
     glimpse of him, hounding his friends for information, 
     -- none of this is going to help you get better. Nobody 
     knows the answers to all the questions, but one thing 
     is clear: He would be with you if he wanted to be with 
     you, and he's not.

So Seventeen comes through in the end. Ninety-five percent 
of it is shit, but the other five percent gives the reader a 
glimpse into what matters in the lives of these girls, 
beyond the day-to-day distractions. It is also the only 
magazine that can hold the attention of someone outside of 
the target group. Unlike the other magazines, Seventeen is 
worthwhile, and it would be a loss to see it cease to exist.

=============
Three Bitches
=============

Age of actual audience:

YM            13
Sassy         15 (and a half, ha ha)
Seventeen     17

Short-term goals:

YM            Lose ten pounds
Sassy         Get the latest Chili Peppers CD
Seventeen     Senior prom

If it was a University:

YM            Western
Sassy         York
Seventeen     Ottawa

If it was food:

YM            Quarter pounder and shake
Sassy         Haagen-dazs with nuts
Seventeen     Spaghetti and to-mat-oe sauce

If it was a philosopher:

YM            Machiavelli
Sassy         Ghi-jac or St Augustine
Seventeen     John Stuart Mill

If it had a citizenship:

YM            American
Sassy         American
Seventeen     American

If it had an aura:

YM            Violet
Sassy         Magenta
Seventeen     Mental Tan

If it was someone that the editors know:

YM            Coby
Sassy         Fiona
Seventeen     JM

If it were sodapop:

YM            Cream soda
Sassy         Pepsi
Seventeen     7-up

If it was part of Mississauga:

YM            Meadowvale
Sassy         East Cooksville
Seventeen     Lorne Park

In one paragraph:

YM

Keep cheek colour low key - applying a few strokes of powder 
blush on the apples of your cheeks is enough to give your 
face a healthy, sun-kissed glow...
(p 75)

Sassy

Did you know that women hold only 2 of 100 US Senate seats, 
the same number as in 1971? When I hear things like this, I 
get so mad I could spit. Enter The Women's Voting Guide. 
All these totally powerful women (like Pat Schroeder and 
Gloria Steinem) worked on this book to help you and moi 
understand that perplexing electoral process we've been 
hearing so much about...
(p 36)

Seventeen

Before I worked at McDonald's, Collie and I ate White 
Castles. We'd drive in and order like fifteen - ten or 
eleven for him, a few for me. I'd feed them to him while he 
was driving. Then we'd go to Dunkin' Donuts [sic] for 
chocolate creme-filleds and Munchkins...
(p 100)

=============
Epilogue
Chris Woodill
=============

This is the first edition of Cropduster, and it is I suppose
a "labour of love," although such a phrase is exactly what would
be said in any of the three mags examined.

We make no promises in terms of future issues, and as this
particular issue took about three months to produce, I wouldn't
hold your breath. Future issues may or may not surface as they
come down the pike, depending on how busy or lazy the authors get
in their real lives.

cw - August 30th, 1992.


--
roasleen:ac174