
Me, age five, when I discovered my mom’s magazine collection in our basement. Consider that love at first sight.
When we started this blog, I had my eye on paper. My own personal goals had me gunning for one day running my own print magazine. Not exactly Anna Wintour, nor Graydon Carter. But some happy offspring between Pilar Guzman, Adam Rapoport, Nathan Williams, Amanda Dameron and Jann Wenner with a dash of Tonne Goodman and Eva Chen. I have a thing for Condé Nast publications.
I’ve been collecting magazines since before I can remember (see above). I blame my mother and her September Issues, the National Geographics, and the weeklies and biweeklies our household was loyal to as well: Time Magazine and Rolling Stone. When I entered my teenage years and started hanging out in pre-gentrification Queen Street in Toronto, it was all about Vice and whatever I could get my hands on that was both free and counter culture. My late-twenties hit and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on were pricey pages (because at that point, I could afford them) like Kinfolk, Cereal…you know what I’m talking about.
When I finally found the gumption to pursue the printed way, the medium had become a farce. The power of the print got called into question. I even found myself turning to an app for my trusty periodicals. I started feeling that the only way to go was pixels.
But lately, I’ve been dabbling in getting stuff printed. Whether it’s my own photos, or projects for clients. I’ve been playing with different paper media and loving it. So when I stumbled upon this little number from the kids over at i-D, I went a little nuts. There’s a revolution going on in London and it involves tiny little artzines that are being self-published up the wazoo. It brings me back to those formative years. And it draws me back to the roots of why I’m doing what I’m doing. Check it out and have a happy Monday!