• by Fern Siegel , June 1, 2006

Weekend is a lovely concept. It is a lifestyle magazine geared to women with money and time, because with enough of either, you'd happily shell out $2,500 for a three-day dude ranch spree or $212 for an appliqué ultra-suede pillow. This is a world where the lighting speaks of eternal dusk, everyone shops at Williams-Sonoma, and the thread count never dips below 500. Dreamy and charming, Weekend is visual Valium for the stressed.

Divided into two main sections, "Weekend at Home" and "Weekend Away," the Hearst publication covers cooking, shopping, travel, getaways, decorating, fashion and tips. It's a one-stop read for those who covet leisure lite. Readers aren't forgotten; they eagerly share their perfect weekends, which smack of preciousness. Then again, Weekend shares that fate, though it's pretty and fun to peruse.

That's thanks to its design, which borrows heavily from Real Simple. Editor Susan Wyland, who was also the founding editor of Real Simple and editor of Martha Stewart Living, has taken elements of both, stirred it with a Crate & Barrel spoon and produced Weekend. It's an interesting mix of expensive and affordable items and ideas, with a sound theme: Just kick back and enjoy your downtime. Who could resist the two pages of Polynesian cocktail recipes, which gave me flashbacks to childhood dinners at Trader Vic's.

The "Home" section features a shopping list that amounts to an advertorial plug, from Marimekko mugs to a sleek $4,100 Vector writing table to luxury loofahs. I was taken with the super-soft Ts until I caught the price tag: $43. This is billed as "stay-at-home wear," the place where cutoffs and faded college Ts are usually de rigueur. I'm all for looking nice, but since when are metallic silver flats considered knockarounds?

In fact, many stories are accompanied by a subtle sales pitch; the one on 10 places to kayak also sports paddles and tops with prices and online purveyors. Even the story on country homes, which waxes rhapsodic about rural digs, notes six for sale. The saving grace is that the information is useful. I was pleased to see the farmhouses were in Pennsylvania or South Carolina, not quaint Connecticut estates. Ironically, 60 years ago, these edifices were what ordinary Americans called "home," not weekend escapes.

The magazine's to-do list, which includes everything from where to get a balloon ride to helpful tips on kite flying, is fun. So are the nifty hints on crafting the perfect mint julep. Weekend understands that weekends aren't just about the kids; a heady alcoholic drink--or two--takes the sting out of the daily grind.

I was especially taken with the various getaways and road trips, which celebrate Americana. Of special note were the seven lighthouses that have been turned into B&Bs and the nature parks dotted throughout the U.S. There is something Zen about communing with Texas bluebonnets--and given the price of gas, it's nice to know you can walk or hike preserves. Plus, kudos to Weekend editors for including a zippy piece on national food festivals. The photos are tiny, but the copy takes center stage--punchy blurbs that underline the joy of food and the zany events that surround it. For instance, the Castroville (Calif.) Artichoke Festival boasts a queen, while the National Hard Crab Derby in Crisfield, Maryland, features crabs racing down a 20-foot board before they are turned into dinner. The ultimate in form and function. I'm headed to Hope, Ark., which, in addition to producing Bill Clinton, is also home to the world's largest watermelon--269 pounds. I don't want to miss the melon toss.

Two quibbles: the photos are often small, save the one of the muffaletta sandwich as big as your head on page 147; and, it's odd to insert food stories between those covering casinos and dude ranches. Still, the magazine'sattention to art, books, nature and festivals is laudable, a reminder that weekends are also a time to expand the mind and senses. But as the final "American idyll" column reminds us, picture-perfect airbrushed weekends are only for the upwardly mobile. The rest of us can just go to the movies.