So while on the plane to Germany, I found something in my seat pocket which I would never ever have bought for myself: A copy of Life & Style magazine (their website is presented by “wunderweib”, whatever that is supposed to tell us). It appears to be the sort of mag that tells women what to wear or eat if their body is pear shaped, what books to read if their life is pear-shaped, and what kind of hand bag goes with pear-shape-complimenting clothing. If you google for the title, you’ll find some hilariously obvious self-made “testimonials” too.
In it, there was a “new in shops this week” spread… which contained this gem:
LIFE&STYLE 30/2010
To be fair: It looks like Her Majesty is not only making rude gestures, but also has vampire teeth — and that’s my fault entirely. I folded the page away and took a picture of it later, not having access to a working scanner.
But still. I don’t think there’s a way to wear this in the UK, NZ or Australia without being beaten up by royalists or at least being laughed at (the “peace” slogan might mitigate things a bit, too, as it’s obvious Engrish). But really, what were they thinking? Is it possible to run entire magazines/companies without a single clued-in person on the entire staff? It did make me grin, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the intention. [Not sure why? Read this.]
Yes, you can still buy this spectacular piece of cultural awareness FAIL: It’s right here, and it costs a measly 119 Euros to make yourself look like someone with an expensive t-shirt who hasn’t left Düsseldorf in his life. Or you could wear it in a sort of ironic way — if you’re prepared to spend that kind of money on it. I buy Engrish shirts with gusto, but usually Engrish fail is reserved for the kind of shirts which cost 20 € for a set of three. I’m tempted, but ultimately not impressed enough.
I think I might browse the maker’s site a few more often — they look like they have that unique German potential for total lack of self-awareness coupled with total confidence in their international appeal, which will (and already does) produce some more fine examples of wearable cluelessness.
That’s two sources of (slightly cringing) joy found in a single plane trip. Not bad at all.