It’s ba-a-a-a-a-ck! I see the Swimsuit Issue lives on. Why? I think the answer is “Why not?” This was one of my favourite pieces from last year, which I reprint today. The cover may be different, but those funny feelings remain the same. Alas, I’ll not be able to back this up with empirical evidence; we did not renew my son’s subscription.
For 55 issues a year, Sports Illustrated produces solid, mature writing that rises above sports cliché and hyperbole in such an inspired way as to justify the magazine’s continued existence in the age of instant information and sock-drawer opinion.
Then, come February, the chicks are in the mail.
The arrival of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue is like coming home to discover that your normally sober great-aunt is slapstick, manhandling, showtunes drunk: it’s completely out of character, it’s equal parts embarrassing and appalling, and yet you can’t help but stare in fascination and the secret hope that something will pop out.
The marketers call it the most anticipated issue of the year. If “anticipated” is a synonym for “awkward,” then yes.
My son’s subscription copy has remained on our kitchen table since it arrived in the mail last week. No one really wants to claim it, yet it can’t be…
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