I love shitty magazines

My love of shitty magazines is what you would call a guilty pleasure. By shitty magazines, I mean the lower-end titles such as Closer, Reveal, Pick Me Up and Love It!. The ones that are around £1 or under.

I dearly love the random mix of celebrity insight, real-life scandal, fashion, and inane puzzles that fill their cheap glossy pages. My true soft spot is for the real-life stories from fruit and nut bars across the land desperate to share their tales of mortifying grossness and horror for £150.