While I wasn’t looking, Martha Stewart Living quietly died.
As you know, I would like a copy of Martha Stewart Living to be placed in my coffin, and while you’re taking requests, I’d prefer to be killed by one, too. But I’ve never actually subscribed to the magazine. Instead, I paid retail for single issues when the mood to read about someone else’s organic lavender farm struck me. It felt more indulgent, not saving over 33% off the cover price, like something Martha herself would do.
So I didn’t notice its absence until this month, when I thought I really ought to see how she would attach a papier mâché spider to the birch tree for Halloween.
That’s when I found it was discreetly knocked off the Omnimedia roster in May.
Friends, I was gutted. Dark clouds gathered over my cast iron cookware. The hydrangeas in the backyard shriveled into the parched earth. It was as if millions of adhesive stencils suddenly cried out in terror…and were suddenly silenced.
But life is for the, uh…living, and so let not our hearts be troubled. Let us celebrate the legacy of Martha Stewart Living as it would have wanted—with six domestic upgrades that are as unattainable as they are aesthetically pleasing. God rest its fabulous soul.
6 Ways to Mourn the End of Martha Stewart Living
1. Plant a small vineyard. In the three to four years it takes the grapes to mature, build a domestic empire. Use part of the money to hire a team of seasonal workers to harvest, ferment, and bottle the finished crop; make your own labels with craft paper and novelty paper punches. Give away to friends with wedges of local cheese.
2. Commission a taxidermied saltwater gamefish to bolt above your mantle. Refuse to acknowledge it when guests come over.
3. Amass a collection of early American stoneware. Look for signed pieces by obscure artists. Arrange in a rustic cabinet. Straddle fine line between hoarding and curating.
4. Use the same simple sugar cookie base three different ways, none of which taste that great.
5. Invite friends to a special dinner party. Create a multilayer tablescape with an elaborate combination of textured fabrics and hand-painted dishware that makes them afraid to touch anything. As guests arrive, shoot a goose from your flock; later, gather around the kitchen island to catch up and de-feather. Thank bird for its sacrifice. Roast carcass with herbs de provence and cultured butter at 400 degrees. Use leftovers for sandwiches, which also won’t taste great.
6. Do something rich men do every day. Be a woman. Serve time in federal prison.
