I remember the exact moment I stopped reading fashion magazines.

I was 19 years old and had just finished paging through Vogue, and although I'd felt fine about myself earlier in the day, I now felt fat and ugly. The epiphany was sudden if not terribly genius: These magazines wanted me to feel awful about myself so I'd buy whatever their advertisers were shilling to fix the “problems" they'd convinced me I had.

And that was it – I was done. I haven't picked up a fashion magazine since.

Sources: | Reuters