beautiful on the outside...

I know what you're thinking: 'Shit - he used to post all the time, like some kind of blogging-obsessed maniac. And now - once a week! Once a freaking week!'

While yes, this may all be true, it is down to this: I have actually got a full time job now. Gone are the days of care-free, hellish early morning/ late night shifts and days filled up blogging, which was my last job, as a waiter. No, I have risen through the ranks and am now at the prestigious, dizzying heights of Sales Assistant. I know, it's fuckin' wild, man. Unfortunately that means less unadulterated blog time. I've got a few good ideas coming up, so stay tuned...

But enough about me and more about book covers. Don't worry (if you are indeed worried at all!), I will still be posting about art and pop and poetry and giant chocolate bars, so please don't defect to The Sartorialist or Style Rookie quite yet! (not that this is a fashion blog, but, hey...)

SOOOOOO - really onto onto the topic of this post now - MARGARET ATWOOD. Or, more specifically, this amazing Margaret Atwood book cover that I found lolling around my house today. I LOVE IT. You may not know this about me, but I have a huge, secret love for fonts put into interesting (or not even interesting, quite dull and predictable as well) patterns. And this cover ticks my fontophile boxes. (Although you might have noticed that, given several previous posts...)

While I cannot admit to being a fan of Atwood's writing - in fact, I actively hated The Handmaid's Tale with a sincere, burning, dulled hatred - or at least, her storytelling. Her writing, in terms of handwriting, is evidently a different matter, as the cover and internal illustrations appear to have been designed and executed by the lady herself. It is a collection of fictional essays and sort of dream-like musing short stories that I just can't force myself to get excited about. But the front and back covers - perfection! Given her style and subject matters they fit wonderfully. It's just such a shame that, having judged this book by its fantastic cover, I was stitched up again by the age old cliched assumption that the two are connected in terms of brilliance. Not in his case, as in many others - you cannot make assumptions!

Nor can it be judged by it's back. Which is equally supreme!

This internal illustration doesn't get me excited though. I say stick to fonts, Maggie.

By the way, welcome to my new followers! I totally heart you guys! And it's nice to think of people actually reading the shit I write. Which, ironically, is much the way I feel about Margaret Atwood's quota of readers. But, as ever, I am happy to be swayed - name me a great Atwood and perhaps you will read a post later in the year about how wonderful I suddenly think all of her books are, inside and out!

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