![]() ![]() The headline read: “Think I’m perfect? Check me out. A flash of excitement hit my heart as I grabbed it off the rack. The cover featured my favourite actress, Jamie Lee Curtis. On this day, my eyes landed on a magazine I’d never read before called More. I searched for new issues of J-14, Teen People, Seventeen and Entertainment Weekly, which I would share with my best friend Kylie as we waited for our moms to pick us up from our babysitter. ![]() When the sliding doors at the front of the grocery store parted, I abandoned my mom at the carts and made a dash for the magazine rack: it towered over me and covered almost an entire wall. I was an only child and she almost always agreed to buy me whatever I wanted. Every weekend I joined my mother in grocery shopping only because I hoped she would buy me the latest issue - or four - that hit the racks. I loved getting lost in the stories, seeing the crazy special effects from the 1970s and 1980s horror, and wanted to grow up to be like these actresses who spent their days screaming their lungs out while covered in dyed corn syrup. Rewinding back to the early 2000s, I spent thousands of my childhood hours sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor with my eyes glued to my tiny 23-inch CRT TV, watching my favourite shows and movies. When I was 12 years old, I was obsessed with horror movies and the badass women who starred in them. ![]()
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