The February Issues
It’s been a strange month for magazines. We got to see more of Michelle Williams’ Marilyn impression, the wisdom of an ex-president and some quality drinking-and-shooting time with the bull-shaped creature known as Channing Tatum. But naturally, you’ll want more than that, so we’ve got an intricately detailed summary after the jump…
Here’s everything you need to know from February’s crop of glossies:
GQ (120 pages):
The cover lines are kind of terrifying: “Who Knew Michelle Williams Had This Body?”, “Have You Heard About the Next Paris?” and “The Clothes That Get a Man Noticed.” Jim Nelson has been reading too much Cosmo.
Great to see the Nike Cortez get some love, but as with anything that bright, approach it with caution.
Adrien Brody is rocking an extremely weird facial hair setup in this Gillette ad. Gentlemen, beware the anchor mustache.
Here’s a Glenn quote for the ages, on distressed jeans: “The only honor in ravaged clothing is wearing it out yourself.”
Quote of the month, from the Hold Steady’s Craig Finn: “I remember being 14 and knowing this Lou Reed album and some David Bowie and deducing from both of them that Germany was for pervs.” Accurate.
Drew Magary’s argument for the Stanley Cup as the Best Sports Trophy: “People have gotten drunk out of the Stanley Cup.” Hard to disagree.
The combination of Monroe’d out Michelle Williams pics and a soul-baring interview is much, much weirder than you’d think. “That poor girl! Nice gams though.”
As anyone who’s seen The Artist knows, Jean Dujardin really wears a suit.
Strangely, GQ's “50 Most Powerful People in Washington” does not include Iron Man, Voldemort or the Mule.
Sleigh Bells will kick your ass while wearing a Michael Bastian flannel.
DETAILS (104 pages):
The first endorsement: a thousand-dollar pen with an 18-karat-gold nib. And yet, you’ll still find a way to lose it at the bank.
Somehow the Grilled Cheese Martini didn’t make their list of savory cocktails.
The Brass Balls Award goes to Jesse Ashlock, for asking Ralph Fiennes about his intimate, soulful encounter with a Qantas flight attendant in an airplane bathroom. Naturally, Mr. Fiennes declined to comment.
This marks the first time we’ve read the phrase “cult skin-care brand.” But, we suspect, not the last.
We had our doubts, but that camo laundry hamper is pretty awesome.
For his Details profile, Channing Tatum gets buzzed on bourbon and shoots tennis balls with a pistol off the side of the freeway. Somehow, we are not surprised.
The obligatory insanely-Detailsy piece of the month: a murse pictorial, from Ferragamo to Louis Vuitton.
The Details Guide to Russian Oligarchs is the best journalism they’ve published in years. Watch your back, Harper’s.
Esquire (130 pages):
A sixth of a page is devoted to finding a new watch for Ray Garcia of Newton, MA. Apparently they’re taking it one subscriber at a time.
The wisdom of Lyle Lovett: “Women like to eat outside.” Take it to heart.
Today in brilliant magazine moves: teasing a longform, back-of-the-book piece with a double-timeline that compares the history of terrorism with the history of Waffle House. Don’t worry; you’re supposed to be confused.
In a single interview, Ricky Gervais quotes Churchill, Ghandi, a Roman emperor, and himself. At least he’s staying humble.
More Lana Del Rey. Harumph.
For Valentine’s, Esquire officially un-endorses the breakfast in bed. For shame. What’s a few crumbs between friends?
Joke of the year, from Doug Stanhope: “Russell Brand, that guy baffles me. You hear him talk and you feel like you’re being touched inappropriately.”
Esquire’s take on bags is a lot more functional and a lot better, but they still don’t get to the core of the problem: people are carrying around too much stuff. If you can’t fit it in a briefcase, it’s time to prune.
Nick Sullivan’s Q&A column is developing into Glenn O’Brien for menswear nerds. This month’s wisdom is the Savile Row pant cuff, which drapes an inch lower in the back.
The 79 things we can all agree on are surprisingly divisive. Boss is better than anything on HBO? Billy Joel? Pimento cheese dip? I’m ready to yell at someone now.
Breaking: Lyle Lovett looks terrifying.