Our Third Annual Review of the "Hot Singles" Issue
Well, it's that time of year again, and while October is the harbinger of many thrilling events, Albuquerque The Magazine’s fourth annual "Hot Singles" issue (and my subsequent third annual review of it) could be the most thrilling of all. According to the magazine, Albuquerque was made for romance; and if that's true, this year's "Hot Singles" issue once again addresses our city's alleged purpose in the most ridiculous way possible. Why poor citizens subject themselves to this yearly shenanigan is a question only they can answer. Why Albuquerque The Magazine continues to pass this intellectually insulting editorial content off on the public is a question best not considered, lest you spontaneously combust.
Similar to years past, the magazine has gathered a collection of local people, "hot singles" if you will, and orchestrated a feature that doubles as a dating service. As always, the interview questions, which ATM's editor says required "quick thinking and a high degree of humor," were shallow and corny: "Celebrity dream date?" "What's on your nightstand?" "If your life was a reality show, what would it be called?" But what's completely beyond comprehension is the return of the dumbest hypothetical question ever asked: "If your date were a New Mexican dish, what would he be and why?" As usual, most of the answers involved the words "hot" and "spicy."
This year, though, what initially stands out is the issue's production quality, which is reminiscent of a high school yearbook. There are a breadth of wacky fonts, while each spread features a silly, cheap-looking graphic—namely, pink and blue male and female symbols, interlocked.
This brings up another underlying problem: The "Hot Singles" issue is excruciatingly hetero, despite the fact that the hot singles aren't, necessarily. It reeks of a scourge from which the entire magazine suffers: Nothing here is challenging, everything is safe. In Albuquerque The Magazine, life is a hegemonic exercise in affluence and superficiality. And the "Hot Singles" issue is a glaring example of this. Perhaps it's fun—although fun to make fun of is more like it—but I can't imagine what people who visit our city must think upon reading this boring, Albuquerque-bearing glossy, which can't possibly be anything more than a vehicle of advertisement.