First Issue Review: Bare- ‘Wealthstyle’ from John Brown Publishing

We were expecting a ‘healthstyle’, but assailed with opening page advertisements for BMW and DKNY, Bare looks more like a ‘wealthstyle’. Far from the chirpy, technicolour format of Shine or Zest, John Brown’s latest offering has an earnest, white-space and small print design reminiscent of Frank (uh-oh!) and at least some of that title’s seriously rich attitude.

I was interested to know how the magazine’s strapline, “Being and Wellbeing”, would be fulfilled. I was happy to admit that I could still learn more about “wellbeing” (vitamins, more sleep, less alcohol etc.) but I thought I had “being” fairly well covered already (be in possession of a corporeal body, register a physical mass, respirate etc.). However, Bare’s curious collection of articles on birdsong, high heels, how to sit, how to be stylish when you die, tea (at great length) and having white teeth (at great expense) somehow didn’t grab me. Their layouts failed to draw the eye and the subject matter made me feel I was sifting through a broadsheet feature editor’s reject bin.

Another article asked “Are Spas The New Churches?”. If they were, then not only would the collection plates be considerably larger, but Bare would be the new Catholic Herald, as this article is followed by not one, but two more articles on spas. One is on Japanese spas, the other details a number of different spas which all cost less than £100. ‘Great!’ you might say to the latter, ‘That’s not just for the super-rich!’. Until you read that one of the spas is in New York, another Hong Kong, another Paris, and no, flights are not included.

That said, I may like yoga, but I’m no Sada from Big Brother. There are some who read Vogue to plan their wardrobes, not just to look at the pictures. Among them are those who would consider it money well spent to have “six feet of flexible black plastic and steel tubing, tipped with headlights and cutters” inserted into their rectum in search of pre-cancerous polyps (p.133). They are the same people who would wear “a pair of £40 lace, string-tied panties” from Agent Provocateur (p.54) to the appointment or buy a £1,900 Nigel Coates daybed because they’re good for your back (p.70).

The health fads of Hollywood stars quickly migrate over here, and presumably those who eschew aerobics, jogging and fruit juice for Pilates, Tai Bo and Ayurvedic diets need to know which elixirs to spend their money on this month. This is what could keep Bare’s circulation as healthy as its readers. I’m chanting as we speak, sweetie…

Reviewer: Anna Wise