Yesterday I bought a copy of the new travel magazine Afar and, reading the words "Premier Issue" on the cover, I thought: I hope it doesn't end up on the dresser in my bedroom.
That's where I keep two short-lived magazines whose births I watched with hope not just as a reader but as a writer.
One is Trips, which debuted in the Spring of 1988. It was published by Banana Republic, back when the company pushed its safari clothing with atmospheric stores that also sold travel books. It was the end of the last great decade for travel writing; a full page ad in the magazine featured six titles in Random House's travel book series, Vintage Departures (also now defunct).
It was a wonderful first issue, with interesting stories (a memoir by Richard Ford of growing up in a hotel in Little Rock) and beautiful illustrations, including the cover (a travel magazine without a cover photo!) which was a dreamlike montage of images of travel, including a ship and a bespectacled man with a little black mustache and matching cap.
It was also, sadly, the last issue, as the company decided to focus solely on clothes.
The other magazine on my dresser is Wigwag, which debuted in October of 1989. It was begun as a kind of answer to The New Yorker, and the first issue carried some big names - Edward Hoagland, Witold Rybczynski - and more wonderful illustrations. The cover featured a Magritte-ish man in suit and hat (what is it about men in hats?) walking with his dog through a park of falling leaves. The autumnal tone was appropriate, because the magazine never appeared again.
My dresser is where good literary magazines go to die.
