New editor of British Esquire, Jeremy Langmead, is terribly excited about the re-styling of his magazine – perhaps a little too excited judging by his amusing diary in Press Gazette this week.
First he reveals that when the first issue arrived at the office he zipped off to the loo to go through it. I had a vision of his testes dangling into the bowl as he leafed through his glossy creation which is for “men who mean business” – not a sight likely to end up in a Gucci ad.
Then we are given an insight into the kind of male who reads Esquire – not necessarily the smart, mature sophisticate of marketing lore. One letter writer asks his sex advice columnist how “grown-ups should refer to their sexual organs so that their young children” will be none the wiser. Apparently this reader’s wife calls her breasts "blobby wobbles" and his penis a "wibbly wobbly".
Jeremy shares that he’s off to a friend's party where he hopes to drink too much vodka. “Who knows,” he writes, “if I’m lucky, I might get some wibbly wobbly action.” Arcati would be most interested to know where his wibbly wobbly ended up.
PS What's Langmead like to work with/for? He sounds all right. Email me privately so I know you're for real. Anons will be deleted. Confidentiality assured if asked for.