Mrs. O shows off her signature style.

The soon-to-hit-newsstands November issue of Prevention has been enjoying some buzz online thanks to a very special cover model. First though, I must disclose my utter admiration for Mrs. Obama. In my eyes, this amazing lady can do no wrong in either a political or sartorial sense. But I’m not here to critique Mrs. O.

Prevention is a high-profile, highly recognizable brand. Its readers are extremely loyal thanks in part to the trustworthy, research-backed content offered every month in its pages, as well as its intelligent and positive–you won’t catch the mag talking down to readers. Prevention has a winning formula, and that formula includes–as it does for most high-profile magazines–a distinctive cover look.

In fact, the five most recent issues (October to June) feature an active, smiling model in her 40s, or perhaps early 50s. The models are no-names. They serve as  templates on which the reader can project her ideal self. The reader may not be quite as slim or quite as pretty as the models, but the ideal each one represents is an achievable one. And here’s proof of just how consistently Prevention adheres to its cover look: On those past five covers, each model is wearing jeans and a casual, slim-fitting top. Every single time. Wanna see for yourself? There are links to each image here.

So why break with tradition now? The answer seems obvious. As a very popular first lady watched as closely for her fashion choices as for her pet causes, like veteran’s affairs and challenging food policy to bring fresh, local produce to more Americans, Mrs. O is a serious get–one which any editor-in-chief would be thrilled over. Whether or not they like her husband’s policies, it stands to reason, Prevention readers would still love to know how Mrs. O got those amazing arms!

When I first saw the cover I was struck by Mrs. Obama’s radiance and her fabulous, form-fitting cocktail dress (designed by Jason Wu, one of her regular favorites). Then I couldn’t help wondering if Prevention considered requesting Mrs. O don workout gear (some cute yoga pants and a hoodie, perhaps?) or the tried and true jeans and tee combo. Mrs. O would  look “happy and healthy” in any ensemble, but I’m so glad the editors embraced the First Lady’s signature style–the classy, chic and playful fashion risk-taker whom her fans know and love. As much as the attainable look of the usual models appeals to readers, Mrs. O is an icon, and her cover image was handled as such, while still keeping to the magazine’s recognizable aesthetic (natural, outdoor setting; happy, not overly posed model). It’s the perfect example of shaking things up in the smartest way.

Can you recall seeing a photo of Mrs. O in workout clothes? Maybe in casual garb for hiking or walking Bo, the dog, but not in full-on gym regalia. While I can’t wait to read about the First Lady’s diet and fitness routines, I like the fact that her workouts are a private ritual, rather than a photo op. Like so many real women, Mrs. O does what she needs to do, with dogged consistency, and gets on with her day. If that typical day involves posing for the cover of a national magazine, well, all the luckier for us!

Gourmet's October issue

Despite the rumors of budget cuts and ample industry speculation about how Condé Nast would see their magazine business through this economic downturn, Magazine Know-It-All did not anticipate such a drastic sweep of the axe. Along with parenting title, Cookie, and two of their redundant bridal books, the company is closing Gourmet, the nation’s oldest food magazine, published since 1940.

A major thread in the Condé conversation has been the apparent face-off between Gourmet and the company’s other food title, Bon Appétit. As it goes, the two magazines had too much in common to coexist (all the while cannibalizing advertising dollars), yet long-time subscribers and people in the food world could never have made the mistake of confusing them.

As a magazine writer with a big chunk of my clips in the food and recipe development space, I have a tremendous fondness for food magazines. While I’ve gone through phases of being smitten with one or another title, Gourmet has always held a place at the top of my list of favorite magazines, of any genre.

Considering Condé Nast ’s indulgent attitude toward its prestige and storied magazines, like Vanity Fair, Vogue and The New Yorker, I am surprised they didn’t find a way to hold onto Gourmet. While Bon Appétit boasts a higher circulation (approximately 1.4 million vs. 977,000), it suffered a similarly awful decline in ad pages in the first half of 2009 compared to the same period in 2008 (35.5% for BA vs. Gourmet’s 46%). I can only assume BA’s business was more sustainable and less costly than Gourmet’s would have been in the long run. But, since Condé Nast is a privately held company, who can say for sure what factors were at play.

It’s true the numbers don’t lie, but shuttering Gourmet was the wrong choice. The magazine, helmed since 1999 by Ruth Reichl, an extraordinary writer, former New York Times restaurant critic, and a celebrity in her own right, possessed a clear point of view, a timely & vital mission, and a resistance against pandering to the masses. While its large fan base makes it anything but a niche publication, Gourmet was not out to please all the foodies all the time. And that’s why its closure is a blow to the national conversation on food politics, farming and the practical and cultural meaning of food in our lives.

By staying true to its editorial mission and turning out consistently compelling content, I believe Gourmet would have remained a vital brand until the economic pendulum swings the other way and advertisers return.

For my money, Bon Appétit’s future isn’t such a good bet. Less than a decade ago, it was a book for housewives and hostesses with a dated look. As the word “foodie” entered the popular lexicon, chefs became rock stars and cooking shows became entertainment, BA made a move to compete with the hipper food mags, as well as the women’s magazines usurping its core audience (titles like Family Circle and Good Housekeeping publish quite a lot of food content in their own right).

With a drastic redesign debuting in January 2008, BA went for a younger, cooler look that would actually mesh with the visual aesthetic of readers accustomed to viewing recipe content online, rather than in a dog-eared old edition of The Joy of Cooking. In addition, recipes got simpler, incorporating more pre-made ingredients, like pancake mix and rotisserie chicken. Food photography took on the in-your-face, pop-art quality of a fashion accessories editorial.

In this new guise, Bon Appétit avoided the axe while Gourmet did not. Still, I can’t help but think that BA’s success is only momentary. When the casual foodies reading BA today find a new hobby, what will the magazine do to be a relevant part of the culinary zeitgeist? Without a legacy, a mission or a lasting contribution to food scholarship, will there be anyone around to care about Bon Appétit’s passing, should it ever come to that?

Lamb love: Saveur's October issue.

I’ve been a little down on Saveur lately. When I started subscribing years ago, it was the darling of “real” food people, as opposed to pop culture-oriented foodie types who spend more time watching cooking shows than actually cooking. I loved the gorgeous photos of Ethiopian cooks making injera the traditional way. Then I read one too many stories where the writer got to have an amazing, authentic food experience with people and places that most mere mortals will never have access to. That, along with one too many recipes for homey, housewifely dishes straight from mom’s or grandma’s kitchen (remember, she loved her shortening and her convenience foods), and I was over Saveur.

Because of some truly shining moments, like the Butter issue and the Breakfast issue, I still keep up my subscription and appreciate the mag’s quirky charm. But I haven’t felt that frisson of excitement when it arrives in my mailbox for a while now.

Happily, that may be changing. Yesterday, I lazily opened the October issue with the cover line, “Why Lamb Rules.” And I was inspired. Saveur has had a lot of success, winning awards and keeping their numbers up even in these economic times. As I looked at Saveur with fresh eyes, I thought the accolades are well-deserved. I found the same lush images worthy to be called food porn and the in-depth single-subject coverage the mag excels at. Along with all this, I found something that’s become rare in the food magazine space: something new.

I often feel that food mags recycle the same content over and over to an embarrassing degree, so new ways of thinking about food aren’t presented as often as they should be. Saveur’s recipe for Beet Stew with Lamb Meatballs, a traditional Iraqi-Jewish dish, made me sit up and re-imagine a lamb stew and a roasted beet and a meatball. I was also dying to cook and eat it immediately.

Along with that, the magazine offered Pasta with Spicy Tomato-Beer Sauce, an intriguing take on Puttanesca that requires reducing a bottle of bock-style beer for over an hour. A 10-page ode to cinnamon included a few snoozy recipes (baked apples, coffee cake), but I loved the approach showcasing the versatility of the spice and inspiring cooks (who must be, admittedly, less jaded and demanding than myself) to recast the role of cinnamon in their kitchens (Picadillo – cuban pork hash – with a full tablespoon plus a stick of cinnamon: yes, please!).

I’m glad Saveur can still  keeps even its most critical readers, like Magazine Know-It-All, excited to devour content that not only informs the mind and pleases the eye, but inspires us to bring the ideas on those pretty pages to life in our personal worlds.