I watched The September Issue tonight. As everybody else's eyes were transfixed on the screen, I found myself realising that I have been working in this industry for half a decade come mid October this year, and it startled me quite a bit.
It's no secret - the recession has shaken up the magazine scene the world over. The once-movers and shakers who thrived in the business are scrambling to keep afloat, and even the very best have shut their doors: Jane magazine, Vibe magazine; Arena UK suspended publication after 22 years in the business.
For most, if not all magazines, selling out their magazine would barely cover their overheads; they rely most on advertising - thus the 99 pages of ads you have to go through in Vogue before getting to the Content Page. And when times are bad, the first thing that gets cut out of the company's budget is that on Advertising & Promotions.
Granted, we will eventually crawl our way out of this wretched economic downturn, but by then - how many magazines will survive? And after clawing out of this debris, how many would want to invest in new publications knowing that this depressive period may actually repeat itself?
Yes, there will always be "beacons of hope"; there will always be Vogue, and GQ, and there will always be the nimble bright-eyed eager beavers who aspire to be the next Anna Wintour. I fear there will come a time where only Vogue and GQ will exist - and let's be honest, there will never be another Wintour.
The truth is, I'm deathly terrified. Five years ago, I saw my name in print in a magazine for the very first time in my life, and I was delirious. I decided that this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Now, I'm not so sure any more.
It is also this year that I've started to dissect my relationships with the people I have around me, and slowly realise whom I can trust and continue to be friends with, and bother to keep in touch no matter the distance; and the ones I should eventually leave behind. While acquaintances may be varied and many, I have realised that friends should remain a small and trusted group - people who will stick by you through thick and thin, as clichéd as that may sound.
Maybe I'm too much of a worry wart, or maybe I'm being paranoid. I don't know. The thing is, I don't know what I want, but I do know what I don't want. Perhaps, eventually, through a process of elimination, I will get what I want.