Dear What’s Your Face at GQ? Jim Nelson? Yeah, I think that’s right.
Dear Jim Nelson,
Enough with the skag covers. You may not realize it, but GQ stands for Gentleman’s Quarterly. No gentleman would be interested in the likes of a burned-out Lindsay Lohan photographed by a burned-out photographer accompanied by an article of sexually-oblique dialogue. No one is seeing Miss Lohan’s “work” because they think she is as talented or interesting as she thinks she is.
I understand, you have magazines to sell. And celebusluts sell. I read the Wall Street Journal, too. I know the sad state of the magazine business, of declining newsstand sales and desperate subscription schemes and that bitch Anna Wintour undermining you with her Men’s Vogue, which is not fit to line a birdcage.
Consider this: maybe if there were well-dressed men (consider those words and realize that wrinkled shirts and untamed facial hair have nothing to do with it) on the cover of a magazine about being a well-dressed man, people might believe you know what you’re doing.