• by March 1, 2006

Confession: I am not a regular Elle reader. In fact, it's entirely possible that I am not the magazine's target reader--a glamorous, trend-setting, fashion-forward, globe-trotting, accessorizing stylemonger who doesn't merely keep up with fashion, but pushes its boundaries.

I don't hang with Stella McCartney or the Sykes sisters, attend Versace store openings, red-carpet events, or 7th on Sixth (well, OK, I've been to a few Fashion Week events like GenArt when I'm invited by an advertiser). Air kissing is not my thing.

That said, I do check in on Elle and other women's magazines on occasion. In fact, I indulged in Elle's February issue, the one with Madonna on the cover airbrushed to within a millimeter of perfection. I particularly enjoyed the pictorial and interview with the Material Mom, an essay on buying a house alone by urban refugee Meghan Daum, and a deftly written meditation from an anonymous writer on why he left his marriage. Elle's nonfiction pieces are particularly well-curated and illuminating. I don't find quite the same variety and depth in similar magazines.

In the March issue, Elle's collage-like pages are brimming to the margins not only with fashion tips and news of lotions, potions, balms, and accessories, but also book recommendations and pieces on color theory. Yes, the pages are rather busy, but it's a good busy. There's actually some "there, there." Editor In Chief Roberta Myers and crew deliver a fully-packed magazine--450-plus pages worth--with loads of stories I'll access and enjoy long after the month of March, I suspect.

For example, I can drop in and nibble on the Elle "FashionInsider: ArtFair" section--one page alone of this six-page, colorful, item-packed segment is enough to fill me up for at least a day or two. Then there's "MustSee," overflowing with well-chosen film, book, and music recommendations and reviews, and a "BeautyBodyHealth" compendium that really makes me feel like I learned something, or at least that I'll make new choices at the makeup counter. The thing about Elle is, if you're like me, you'll feel the overwhelming need to rip items from the mag, tuck them in your bag and one, two, even three months later, you'll turn up at the makeup counter, Sephora, or a standalone boutique with a dog-eared clip asking for SkinCeuticals CE Ferulic serum or DiorShow Mascara. I love the ability to casually swoop in and imbibe Elle in a nonlinear way.

In the March issue story "Genie in a Bottle," Editor-At-Large Laurie Abraham explores her daily desire, along with that of her mommy compatriots, for "mother's little helper." No, not pills, but alcohol--a daily glass or two. Her fresh take on the age-old how-to-balance-work-and-family-stress thing is a surprisingly candid assessment of the issue, one that's not going away any time soon. Hey, Laurie, it's not just moms who need a glass or two...

Other engaging essays include "Truly, Madly, Deeply," a brilliant piece by Louisa Kamps on the unique and apparently all-consuming relationship of author Ayelet Waldman and her Pulitzer-winning husband, writer Michael Chabon; Bob Morris' "Fear Factor," on his paralyzing fear of the dentist; and "Spring Cleansing," Sarah Bernard's take on detoxing her home via a feng shui consultant.

The "Ashlee Unplugged" interview and pictorial on Jessica Simpson's little sister, is a good read that offers far more than other celebrity/fashion mags that splay a starlet on the cover and proceed to offer exactly one graph on the lovely.

The only feature I'd ditch is "Ask E. Jean," an advice column that's a silly waste of space and readers' time and energy.

Despite its obsessive designer-heavy/couture culture coverage, Elle impressed me a heck of a lot more than most in its genre. Myers and co. may make an Elle girl-woman out of me yet.