For The Love Of God, Take It Away (Take A Break)

Name: Joker25

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Product:	Take A Break
Date:	14/02/06 (537 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: It's cheap.

Disadvantages: Will turn your brain into a viscous liquid that will slowly seep out of your ears.

Once upon a time, my dear and lovely friends, I was like you. I read respectable magazines; I'd even go so far as to say that some of them were 'cool'. My coffee table warmly embraced Marie Claire, Vogue, Cosmopolitan, The Face. Visitors to my house were impressed by the quality articles, the cutting edge photography, the current events reportage.

But no more. As of the last few months I have consigned myself to a hell which is entirely of my own creation. Yes, the evil that I speak of is Take a Break magazine. I can hear your shocked gasps, the sheer and utter disbelief that there is a soul under the age of 65 who will publicly confess to an addiction which makes Kate Moss' look like a minor stumble off the path of righteousness. However, I feel that acknowledging my 'problem' amongst friends will be the first step on what will no doubt be a long and arduous slog to recovery (and the return of Vanity Fair to my coffee table). With that thought in mind, lets press on and delve into the murky world of Take a Break, shall we?

Take a Break is published weekly (my issue's from the 19th January) by H Bauer Publishing, who should really know better. It costs the princely sum of 76 pence, and is available everywhere you find middle-aged women and pensioners doing their shopping. And what exactly does 76 hard earned pence buy you in the way of bottom of the barrel journalism? Well, you'll be glad you asked, because I'm about to investigate on your behalf (with no thought to the damage this kind of idle perusal could do my already addiction-weakened self. Nothing if not selfless, me).

On the front cover we have a large photo of an unknown blonde girl, surrounded by tantalising teasers of the stories contained within. With titles like 'Mastectomy Mum Gives Birth; Now I'll Fight My Cancer' and 'My Lover And His Mistress', how could you not want to read on? Inside the cover we have 'Take a Break Street' - a section where (seemingly exclusively menopausal) women grab the opportunity to send in photos of themselves, their families and their pets doing utterly random things in the desperate hope that someone, somewhere might be interested. Case in point, this week's issue contains a photo of a pug dressed up as Dracula (I kid you not), a baby sleeping on a dog, and some pensioners holding umbrellas.

Next up we're into the good stuff - the stories. In this issue Suzanne Peters seems genuinely shocked that her lover was two-timing her. I fail to see how this can be a total surprise, bearing in mind that she's evidently a bit of a moan and has a face like a well slapped a*se. Next up is a story entitled 'Mastectomy Mum Gives Birth', which does exactly what it says on the tin really.

After this comes my favourite bit - the 'Brainwaves Roadshow'. This is where bored and possibly lobotomised housewives feel the need to share their handy household hints. This week we have Lynn Newsham who recommends turning motorbike crash helmets into unusual hanging baskets and says, 'Passers-by always comment on our unique hanging baskets'- oh, they certainly do Lynn, and their comments generally involve the words 'demented' and 'will die alone with only 17 cats for company'. Also featured in this section of unparalleled genius is advice on how to get leaf marks out of car upholstery (use toothpaste), how to remember your mobile number (get it inscribed on a dog tag, or alternately and for the less mind-numbingly stupid amongst us, store it in your phone's memory) and how to stop paint cans leaving nasty marks on the carpet (use toothpaste - no, not really, I jest. Put them inside a carrier bag).

The next chunk of the magazine is occupied by the 'Mum's Army' bit. You'd be forgiven for thinking that this was some kind of UKGold reworking of the terrifically bad TV show, 'Dad's Army', but no. It is, in fact, Take a Break's incredibly self-important attempt to start a new political party, composed entirely of, that's right, you guessed it, mums. They're so worried about 'yob culture' that they've even managed to get a candidate onto BBC2's 'The Daily Politics'. Must have been a slow news day, then. They've handily included a candidate list should the urge to vote for any of them completely overwhelm you. I'm aware that I'm setting the Feminist movement back about 30 or so years here, but the vast majority are unsmiling butch heifers who wouldn't look out of place on Prisoner Cell Block H.

Returning to the stories and we've got one about a woman who didn't know her boyfriend was a rapist, some sisters who shopped their dad for being a paedophile, a girl who fell in love with a man dressed in a tiger suit, a mum who died, a surprise baby, a baby who died, a man who was killed by reckless drivers and a man whose wife died. To summarise, an awful lot of dead or dying people. Sandwiched in-between all of this is a handy health section which features, amongst other things, the very dandy Dr Knott who deals with someone who is in proud possession of a rectal polyp ('proud' may be the wrong adjective there, 'dismayed' may well be more appropriate) and a person who feels like there's something crawling in her armpit (words fail me). There's also a recipe section, a lot of puzzles, a beauty SOS and a makeover clinic where 2 middle-aged women with bad hair in drab clothes become 2 middle-aged women with bad hair in dresses.

Good grief, I've left out the holiday review section (Florida - it's really quite nice. Apparently), David Hale's true secrets (agony section with a resigned looking bloke in a cardigan), horoscopes, an advert for the army, fashion special (this week featuring a selection of knitwear which my gran wouldn't have been seen dead in), Coffee Break Fiction which is just too, too awful for words and the letters section at the end where there seems to be no stopping middle-aged women from writing in and drivelling on pointlessly, often along the theme, 'Oooh, my husband's a right card. Once he tried to do the ironing and knocked it all over. Men, eh?'

In summary, Take A Break is journalism at it's absolute worst. You will not learn anything from this magazine, it isn't particularly visually pleasing, the puzzles are so easy as to be laughable and you are likely to face some very derisory comments from anyone who happens to spot it in your house. And yet it's bizarrely compelling and has a high readership. And I, to my eternal shame, read it (that'll end soon though. I'm now on step 2 of the 12-step programme and I'm feeling strong). I can only explain its incredible popularity by the following:
- It's very cheap.
- It's the magazine equivalent of Last of the Summer Wine - there is absolutely no higher order brain function required to plough through it.
- The stories tend to feature a lot of the dregs of humanity and/or people with horrible diseases which is appealing in the 'well, at least I'm not as badly off as THEM' sense.
- Unlike other magazines of a similar ilk, there is no 'Poet's Corner' section. I simply cannot emphasise how much of a blessing this is. There is nothing worse than a bored woman with waaay too much time on her hands who feels that the absolute best way to express herself is through poorly punctuated poetry which is contrived and doesn't scan.

Go on, have a read - it'll make me feel less alone and if nothing else you'll find a whole host of unusual uses for toothpaste.


(Also posted on Ciao by me)

Summary: Cheap magazine aimed at those with more HRT than sense.