Men’s Magazines

Posted on by

You pay your money you get to choose. C.A.

OK, the 90s ones like Loaded and FHM were marketed for and aimed at morons and oafs. And it’s no surprise that neither publication exists today, because they were mostly both crap. But there were ones that were better, like Esquire and GQ.

But now both Esquire and GQ have nothing to do with men or their interests. Normal straight men, that is.

An attractive woman on the front cover of a magazine was always a selling point. But it appears that good looking women are now banned from the covers of these publications. Now, it’s either a knobhead like Marcus Rashford or Daniel Craig. Or a whoopsie like Andrew Scott or the new Doctor Whoke Ncunti Thingy. It appears these mags are now aimed at wokeys and pooves. The media is all too happy to take part in this emasculation, and they are making out it’s now ‘wrong’ for men to like women. They are also stupid bastards. What cover star is going to sell more? A good looking bird, or some mincing luvvie? It’s nearly as daft as Tesco encouraging people to have a vegan Christmas dinner (which they did) when they sell hundreds of turkeys. Commercial suicide in the name of woke lunacy.

gb.readly.com

Nominated by Norman.

91 thoughts on “Men’s Magazines”

  2. There is still a niche market for magazines for connoisseurs and dirty old men, which – you will not be surprised to hear – is still catered for by the Publications wing of Boggs Pornographic Film productions (Taiwan) Ltd., and I am proud to say that we have the patronage of several politicians. A Mr Anthony Blair, who gives his address as Mincing Lane buys the bi-monthly “Cottagers Gazette”, whereas a Ms K. Leadbetter and Ms Eagle are regular subscribers to Lesbian Wrestlers Quarterly, Mr Dominic Grieve and Lord Heseltine get quite frustrated if their copies of the “Rubber Knickers Enquirer” are held up in Customs. A Sir Keir has been subscribing to “Bicycle Seat Sniffers Gazette” since time immoral. Talking of immoral A Mfr Corbyn of North London never misses an issue of “Big Black Tits”. For a more mainstream title from our stable, Lord Mandy is a dedicated reader of the “Ladies Embroidery Monthly. He buys it for Eddie Izzards needlework mend and make do column. All our subscribers know that if they don’t keep up their subscriptions, certain information will be leaked to The Sun on Sunday.

    • I’m guessing Ant Middleton and his boyfr, I mean, Adventurer in Arms, are regular subscribers of “110% – the magazine for masculine hetrosexual men with no issues whatsoever who only research gay men so as not to end up like them”

      • Nice to see others cannot stand those fucking psycho chav privateer cunts either. Still, if they weren’t doing that, they’d be selling drugs…

  3. One wonders where the money to prop up these institutions comes from.
    Any one of the businesses we cunters work for or own, if we embraced left-wing nonsense, we’d be out of business quicksmart.
    Of course the beeb has idiots who actually still pay their licence theft and Disney is swimming in DEI/ESG money courtesy of Vanguard and Blackrock, but smaller businesses?
    How do they sustain the presumably catastrophic losses accrued from continuing down the path of ‘the message’?

    • Disney has investment from ESG investors, but those organisations that rate these corporations are corrupt as well, awarding high ratings to Exxon and Apple and sportswear companies with strong branding but terrible working conditions in their sweatshops.
      It’s just another bubble waiting to burst.

      • You’ll be collecting your P45 on Tuesday then Herman and police interview on Wednesday?

      • As long as the police interview is with a female plod like the ones in the 80s.

        Skirt, tights, handbag… Phwoaarh!

  4. I was never a fan of any of them.

    Read a few but always felt a bit ‘one of us, one of us’, and from my mid-teens decided real men didn’t need magazines to tell them what clothes, deodorants, aftershaves, music, watches etc to wear.
    I didn’t think much of the willowy models and actresses held up as the ‘totty’ we should all think is wonderful. Most seemed to lack tits or an arse.

    • or even ‘music to listen to’

      Same goes with the weird worship of msle actors, sportsmen and even models these magazines foster.

      All seems a bit… gay.

      Bot like these young Joey Essex types fighting over who has a better instagram account; Massi or Ronaldo.

      I find it bizarre and a little bit homosexual.

  6. I was all for a good looking girl on the cover of magazines and the marketing certainly worked on me.
    I used happily hand over me reddies for a glossy of half fuck all and half adverts based on a seductive snap of Joanne Guest or Gaynor Goodman on the cover.

    • The height of 90s manliness for many teenagers; A copy of Loaded, FHM or similar, Ben Sherman collared shirt and a can of Fosters, all finished with hair gel and a fuckton of Lynx, lol.

      • …..while masturbating to glossy photographs of sex kitten Anneliese Dodds wearing nothing but a wide grin and a red G string. At least that is what Kweer did.

    • That’s the attire for half the crowd at Goodwood Festival of Speed/Revival.

  8. Hi Norman,
    I was the one in the United Saturday Football Special, sat in the engaged toilet with the latest edition of Parade. It was the early days of showing the occasional nipple.

    • I liked Loaded.
      Got the first edition somewhere in the loft.

      GQ and Esquire was just adverts for overpriced watches and aftershave , for twats in Islington.

      But that at the top, Razzle holds a fond place in my 🤎.

      I’d nick my dad’s.
      Razzle was brilliant.

      Never liked those yank airbrushed ones like playboy.
      Razzle had birds you’d stand a chance of pulling or meeting in the supermarket.

      Spotty arses, bad tattoos, crosseyed occasionally.

      Bet me mam thought I’d spilt a bucket of wallpaper paste on my duvet?

      • Pissed myself Mis, besides imagining you did thus. Can see future decorators trying to remove wallpaper with a blowtorch from your boyhood home.

      • Agree with you on Playboy.
        Orange/Amber filtered, vasoline lens.

        The porno version of Commemorative plates.

        Nothing rock n roll about that.

      • The only stuff worth having were the Continental porn mags.

        Color Climax, Swedish Erotica, Danish Blue, Pleasure, Rodox, New Cunts, Weekend Sex, to name but a few.

        They were why I voted to join the EEC – imagined the UK market would be flooded with proper filth! Sadly, due to the prudish nature of the British people, it turned out not to be.

        Always managed to bring back a suitcase full following business trips abroad though. 🙂

  10. I was aged 14 to 17 between the years 1998 and 2001, Loaded and FHM were essential wanking material for us boys back then, some classic photo shoots that I vividly remember to this day. These were supplemented by The Daily Sport, sneakily purchased at the newsagents at the top of our road and snuggled up to my teenage bedroom after school.

    My parents got the internet in 2001 and that kind of rendered these magazines redundant for me. But the memories of some of those issues were deeply engrained.

    • You’re a near-contemporary, GC.

      Do you remember Alison Amberley in The Sport?
      That was the late nineties-early noughties, and then we had Lucy Pinder (from my neck of the woods), Michelle Marsh and Sophie Howard in the early-mid noughties.

      • wanked myself to death over Marsh/Howard/Pinder… that was a golden era!!

        I don’t remember Alison from the name only.

        remember Lynda Leigh tho?! she’s still on the go!

      • I liked Pinder for a while but preferred Marsh. The more of Pinder I saw and heard, the less I liked her. A mutual aquaintance who worked for Bauer told me she is quite dull in person, but then a lot of fit birds are.

  11. Anyone remember the lads car mags from the 90s?
    Max Power went full throttle down the lad/ladette route.
    They used to photograph and interview some proper slags at car meets, one of my favourites at the time going something like….
    Interviewer: what’s you favourite drink?
    Slag: Sp¥nk!
    Interviewer: what’s your favourite sexual position?
    Slag: Anal!
    Classy stuff eh?

    • A mate of mine went to a Max Power convention/event and met some page 3 girls. I asked him if it was better or worse than attending a science fiction convention.
      I don’t think he saw the funny side.

      • But did he at least see the fanny side?

        Mate of mine accidentally knocked over a B&Q end display of weedkiller once… I made fun of him about it afterwards, but I don’t think he saw the fungicide.

  12. I guess admin had to do a lot of research before satisfied thus cunting could be released.

    A sticky cunting for Saturday morning.

  13. They’ve declined rather rapidly since the 80s…Razzle for some ropey but game lass with her growler out and Penthouse for the fit lasses with tidy minges and good underwear..perfect,a chap knew where he stood.

    Of course,magazines for less sporting fellows,about gardening and stamp collecting have always been available.

    I echo Mr Prime above in being a little disturbed by what seems to be rampant Poofery in modern publications selling high priced gear porn to insecure twats…and never mind the same faggøtry pumped out by the MSM.

    It’s enough to drive a chap to drink.

    Good Health!

    • Such ad-filled lifestyle rags would be read by muppet supporters of our modern Inger-land football mercenaries and their woke claptrap.
      They even call Sadiq Khan, ‘the mayor London needs’.

  14. I always remember Grattons mail order catalogue, lingerie section when I was a lad…!

    Can’t think why….🥴

  15. The man’s magazine has a fine heritage going back deep into the annals of history. Gentlemen from Kings downward enjoyed ‘erotica’. The nobility even had rooms specifically for storage and perusal of such naughtiness.

    High class drawing by such posh cunts as Aubrey Beardsley and Thomas Rowlandson made it all a matter of good taste. Their work decorated all the top men’s publications. Men would peruse their mags before setting off for the evening to watch the saucy Can Can dancers.

    The advent of the photograph fucked all that up. A few early attempts were made with tasteful ‘What the Butler Saw’ type montages. Papers like “Titbits” hung on for a while but the writing was on the wall. It was but a short step to “Asian Babes”. Fuck off.

    Good morning, everyone.

  16. GQ and Esquire are just Cosmo for men, and have gone woke.
    GQ and the fashions and styles it promotes is said (by The Independent) to have inspired the label ‘metrosexual’ in 2003, when male grooming products expanded and created a new market for the narcissistic prick-about-town.

  17. In the early days when magazines were scarce, one had to bring oneself off with the spoken word only.

  18. Why did all the reader’s wives in the 80’s edition of Razzle, etc look like an even fatter Rose West?

      • Ho ho, nice one, CP!
        That’s a name I hadn’t heard in years.
        Wonder if Clive James ever got his end away with her?

      • Had she been (a lot) younger, I’d want her performing at my funeral.
        Her and Electric Six.

        It would be like Gary Numan and Nine Inch Nails all over again.

    • Imagine buying Readers Wives only to discover Lord Nugee had submitted a photograph of Five Bellies Emily Thornberry.

  19. It’s a different world nowadays.

    I mourn the passing of the bygone era of grumble mags scattered in hedgerows,
    White dog shite, piss smelling telephone boxes, and heavy breathing on landlines ( by me)

    Playgrounds made of concrete and broken glass, now all safety surfaces, not a scabby knee in sight.

    This Digital age is awful.
    Feel like I’ve walked into the set of Tron.

    I like nowt about it.

    • Puddles of sputum on the street each with a nice dollop of green mucus in the middle.
      No one works down coal mines or smokes Capstan full strength any more. Sad.

    • Some things don’t change though.

      It’s early summer and the temperature here is soaring to the low teens. Just like it always did.

      Global boiling, apparently.

      • Come the end of June, it’ll have been the hottest on record Geordie.

        Guaranteed.

    • The joys of youth many years ago was walking some country lane and finding a wank mag, I still look now but sadly haven’t found any for years

    • You reminded me of one of my scabby knee days when sat on my front doorstep and a schoolfriend ask could he have a pick at it. I nonchalantly said no, I’m saving it for later. Don’t know to this day, why I remember it.

      • I had a friend who had trouble with acne. One night in the pub i noticed he had 3 angry, sore-looking bumps on the side of his neck. A friend of a friend raised the matter in the most diplomatic manner he coukd mist, asking, ‘oi mate.. what the fuck is up with your neck?
        I just gave the bloke a look as if to ask ‘why?’

    • Blame one of my clumsy classmates for the decline of climbing frames set in bare concrete. He fell from the top bars and cracked his head, leading to headlines in the local paper and a carpet of green rubber ‘wool’ over the base.

      Spoilsport cunts.

  20. Does anyone else remember those American men’s publications from the 1960s & early 70s The covers were generally adorned with pictures of huge breasted women on the run from Nazi soldiers, caught in barbed wire, that sort of thing. Sometimes it was the Japs committing lurid atrocities, or huge breasted women in Nazi uniforms beating up hapless GI POWs. The stories inside would cover such burning issue of the day as wife-swapping or office romances. Brilliant stuff. Lots of ads too, for Mr Atlas body building gear, and life insurance!

      • This is the greatest advert of all time.

        The black dragon fighting academy.
        Where if your a 6stone timid woody Allen type you can be trained by a bloke who looks like Peter Sutcliffe to become a homicidal killing machine who rips the still beating hearts from bullies chests!

        Magnificent.

        https://images.app.goo.gl/hj3pXQmqL5pgkDvu5

        Ps
        The bloke was called Count Dante and had his hands registered as lethal weapons.

        I wonder who would win a fight between him and similar fantasist Steven Seagull?

    • Any ads for ‘Sea Monkeys’, or was that just Marvel comics?

      Not that this country needs any..

  21. Memories…..
    My mate was scaffolding at certain printing works 30+ years ago.
    Rocked up with boot full of girls Mags.
    Not the same as looking at a “phone”

    • Going back decades, I used to buy Mayfair magazines, they usually had one or two girls who were worth a wank. This mag was supposed to feature ‘girl-next-door’ types, although nobody who looked like that ever lived next door to me.

      • Used to do odd jobs for my local newsagent (Sam, lovely bloke) when I was a lad. He would pay me in stock (which I preferred). So I’d get the posh chocolate, Tizer and copies of Mayfair. I still remember the names of some of the Mayfair crackers from the old days. Lena Gallagher, Jenny Barnes, and Jane Hamilton.

    • Girl’s mags?

      Marie Claire, Smash Hits, Jackie?

      Scaffolders love them.

      • Used to read my sister’s Smash Hits.
        Funny as fuck and full of grear bands. Morrissey was always great value for money. A very vindictive but funny cunt.

        Smash Hits was killed in the late 80s, because of Kylie, Jason and that phag Phillip Schofield.

  22. Only issue of FHM I ever bought was in 1996. Agent Scully frrom The X-Files in her duds.

    Needless to say, my wrist was kaput after too much use.

  23. Every time I’m in Morrisons with Mrs Norman, we see these publications with whoopsies on the front cover. That new Doctor Whoke, Ncunti Gayblack is everywhere. It’s either woolie woofters or Taylor fucking Swift. Tiresome shite.

  24. I remember a reader’s wife appearance in razzle where the scene was ” a damsel in distress/ broken down car” mechanic turns out to fix it / no knickers on / up skirt shot.
    The mechanic was her husband who posing as the mechanic used his “proper works” overalls in the scene.
    Everybody in the factory knew him and saw his wife’s fanny….😂

    • Pure class Arch.
      Did he end up with a nickname that followed him through his life? I do hope so.

  25. By “magazine” are we talking about the printed page?
    Fuck men these glossy paper rags are expensive. What was 3.95US/4.95 Canada 5 years ago is now 14.95!
    I recommend Guns and Ammo.
    Not sure if that one is available in the UK.

  26. One of those Paul Raymond jazz mags used to give whatever bird was the main photoshoot of the issue, the title ‘Cunt of the Month’.

    I’m on my way over to post a nom for a particularly odious individual who may well deserve that title on this here site. And his fucking lawyer as runner up. 😡

  27. When I was a chavvy, I fantasised about a big breasted older bird in one of the mags ” auntie Jane ” I believed she was called, loved an older bird back then, now it’s the 20yr old as I’m an old git.

    • When I was younger I always fancied older women. At 60 the choice is distinctly limited.

      • Older women don’t get shocked when you ask them to do really rude stuff…and are grateful IMO

  28. Anyone remember ‘porn-a-likes’ from loaded magazine?

    Anyway, they were good.

  29. Ah young women
    Wrinkle free taut smooth skin that springs instantly back to shape and pert tits and arse that can’t hold a fucking pencil up sheer luxury, alas the polar opposite of myself. One can but dream.

    • From my experience……the young ones may well be firm and tight, but as I have got older so have my women, and when I ask for them to piss on me and then let me fuck them in the shitter, they are far less shocked and far more accommodating than the young ones.

      ..so milfs everytime for me thank you

  30. Have to say Chuff the tradesmans entrance did pose some problems not so much the watersports though

Comments are closed.