Sigmund Freud once confessed that despite a lifetime spent pondering the human psyche, he was still no closer to answering the inscrutable question, “what do women want?”
Many a frustrated male has found solace in this confession. When he can’t understand why the stubble lining the basin is such a big deal, or how a sister-in-law’s birthday could possibly take precedence over poker night, it’s comforting to know wise old Freud couldn’t figure it out either.
Many an astute female, on the other hand, will pick up on the not-so-veiled corollary to Freud’s celebrated statement what men want is no mystery at all. In fact, she might say, men’s wants are prosaic and shallow enough to be summed up in three letters (for the benefit of frustrated male readers: s-e-x).
A cursory glance at FHM or GQ, two of South Africa’s leading men’s magazines, would seem to confirm the latter view. I’m referring, of course, to the scantily clad celebrities shining forth in glossy, airbrushed glory or, as an American editor once summed it up, “bright lights, big titties.”
But there’s a lot more to these publications than our astute female might suppose. In fact, men’s lifestyle titles are arguably the biggest magazine publishing phenomenon of the past decade. And with the kind of circulation figures they’re achieving, anyone in the media industry would do well not to judge them by their covers.
Ten years ago, lifestyle magazines for men were virtually unheard of. Few South African males over thirty will forget the babes of Scope naughty bits clad only in government-issue stars. But flesh mags aside, the term ‘men’s magazine’ referred exclusively to special interest titles on topics that interest men, like cars, fishing or DIY.
Then, in 1994, a watersport title called bigblue broadened its editorial focus to include articles about sex, fashion and beer, alongside photo spreads of babes in bikinis. Freewind, bigblue’s publisher, changed the title to Directions, and thus was born South Africa’s first, fully-fledged lad mag.
Directions grew its circulation and advertising revenue quickly (albeit off a small base) but it wasn’t until the local version of US-based Men’s Health hit the newsstands that the men’s lifestyle category really came into its own.
Launched in 1997 by Touchline Media, Men’s Health offered “tons of useful stuff” to a slightly older male market than Directions, packaged around five editorial pillars: health, fitness, stress, sex and nutrition.
The formula worked. Five years later, Men’s Health is the country’s biggest selling men’s lifestyle title, with an average circulation of over 80 000 and readership above half a million. And all this without a single cover shot of Pamela Anderson.
“Sex and relationships are a very important part of the Men’s Health editorial mix,” explains editor Jason Brown, “but that’s not the main focus of the magazine. We’d rather show you how to get the girl of your dreams than look at her.”
A major challenge for Men’s Health was importing a successful American template while ensuring editorial relevance for a South African audience.
“A healthy, outdoor lifestyle is reflective of South African society,” says Brown. “Our edition has a very strong lifestyle element. We not only look at the straight fitness and health aspects, but delve deeper into men’s issues particularly South African men’s issues without losing focus on our core purpose.”
And that core purpose, according to Brown, is providing “relevant, entertaining information that doesn’t talk down to the reader.”
Brown admits that being first to market was a significant advantage. “We were in a position to determine how we would interpret the needs of readers,” he says.
This in stark contrast to Men’s Health in the UK, which entered the market after titles like FHM, Loaded and Maxim, and its circulation lags well behind these lad mag competitors.
So does the relative success of Men’s Health locally mean South African men are more interested in health and fitness than in clothing-deprived women?
Brown presents a different explanation: “UK men have been exposed to men’s magazines and a variety of newspapers for a lot longer than we have. The page three girl, witty commentary and closeness to the European celebrity circuit is something they’re familiar with. The lad mags use this mix in much the same way, but in a glossier, slicker format.”
The parallel with page three tabloid titillation is something Louis Eksteen, publisher of FHM in South Africa, vehemently rejects. He even resists the label ‘lad mag’.
“In Britain, the young guys in their glory years with money to spend, who go to bars and take out girlfriends and watch rugby they call those guys ‘lads’. But for some reason the word ‘lad’ in South Africa has derogatory undertones, and we were very conscious of that when we launched FHM, so we used the word ‘guy’. In fact, in keeping with the colloquial tone of FHM, our guys should actually be called ‘okes’, because that’s how they refer to each other.”
Your typical FHM okes are in their mid twenties about five years younger than the median Men’s Health reader and they’re buying the mag in increasing numbers. ABC figures for the first half of this year put circulation at about 75 000, just five thousand short of Men’s Health. Sales have increased 22 percent year-on-year, despite a cover price of R23,95 that makes FHM the country’s most expensive monthly magazine. And advertising’s up 40 percent for the year.
“We brought in R2,2 million of advertising, after all commissions and costs, with this December issue. Coupled with probably another R1,4 million in net circulation income, that’s significant in anyone’s language. That excludes things like sponsorships and brand involvement.”
Jislaaik, okes.
But this kind of success doesn’t come cheap. FHM is only starting to turn an operational profit this quarter, and owner Uppercase Media a joint venture between Naspers and FHM’s UK publisher Emap still has a significant outlay to recoup. “We invested heavily, from the beginning, into creating a high quality, high circulation product for readers,” says Eksteen. “That takes a lot of marketing, and you’ve got to deliver. So there’s always added value, be it a calendar, the 100 Sexiest feature or our fashion supplements.”
He’s dismissive of any suggestion that FHM merely transposes local captions onto pictures lifted from the UK edition.
“People might get the impression that we have more international content, because often our cover star is an international celebrity. But we’re actually 70 percent local, and that’s very important to us. It’s not page three tabloid stuff either. That stuff’s easy to do. You can buy the pictures. We don’t pay our celebrities, and we don’t skimp on local photographers. We use people like Gerda Genis, Nick Boulton and Steve Tanchel high quality photographers who take fantastic pictures. But they’re not cheap.”
It’s all part of the effort to ensure that the magazine is sexy rather than sleazy. FHM has a strictly no-nude policy, and every photo, article and caption has to pass what Eksteen calls the “girlfriend test” in short, if she finds the mag lying about, she’s not going to think it’s degrading to women.
“The kinds of women we feature are those who have made something of their lives of their own accord. Guys are interested in girls like that be it a tennis player like Anna Kournikova or a singer and actress like Jennifer Lopez professional woman who’ve made a name for themselves, and who also look great in a bikini.”
Of course, it’s not all about the babes. Like Men’s Health, FHM adheres to an imported formula. There’s a strong advice emphasis, be it on fashion, relationships or toys. The December issue includes “Gadget Heaven” an eighteen pager featuring everything from palm pilots to chainsaws.
One of the most distinctive aspects of the magazine is its particular brand of humour, which often walks a fine line between the bizarre and the tasteless. I asked Eksteen about FHM’s trademark “modern day horror stories.”
“The new issue’s got a lovely one,” he says, “Hacked to Bits! Yankee student in satanic stew.”
Deadpan, I reply that the one I had in mind was about the chap who had his face eaten off by a rare fungus.
“Ja, it’s terrible ‘ey,” he says, trying hard to keep a straight face, “horrific.”
His resolve breaks a moment after mine.
“You’re smiling,” he laughs. “You’re answering your own question. Guys love that shit. And then there’s this stupid Pom who tries to row over the Atlantic in a dinghy and almost sees his arse. Guys are intrigued by what other guys get up to, and how stupid they can be. We did a good one on Wynand du Toit, the recce who got caught by the Angolans and the things they did to him in prison.”
I can only shudder.
Babes aside, FHM’s editorial tone is clearly differentiated from Men’s Health, appealing to the guy who, according to Eksteen, is “more interested in picking up girls than worrying about his new-born’s future.”
Jason Brown puts it a little more forcefully: “The only thing Men’s Health and FHM have in common is that we’re appealing to men.”
But there’s another men’s lifestyle title that’s more difficult to place. On the surface, Cond Nast Independent’s GQ appears quite similar to FHM. Indeed, as accident would have it, recent covers of both mags feature blondes in a virtually identical pose, complete with matching leather boots Kylie Minogue in GQ and Pamela Anderson in FHM.
Between the covers, the mags do differ, but only to a point. On the one hand, you’re more likely to find the big name journalists in GQ recent contributors include Mark Gevisser, Dennis Becket, Harvey Tyson and Dennis Davis. On the other, the only difference in the photo spreads is that GQ apparently uses a more inclusive definition of A-list celebrities.
Not surprisingly, editor Daniel Ford emphasises the former in explaining why GQ lags FHM in the circulation league tables.
“GQ will always be a smaller circulating men’s magazine as it is aimed at the elusive, exclusive South African male consumer.”
With an ABC just shy of 37 000 for January to June 2002, GQ sold less than half as many copies as FHM. This despite a 15 percent increase in circulation on the previous six months. However, as the old adage goes (and as Ford’s use of the word ‘exclusive’ suggests) counting the people you reach is less important than reaching the people that count.
But the tale of the tape isn’t in GQ’s favour. According to AMPS 2002A, although slightly younger, FHM’s readership is also marginally more affluent, with 57 percent falling into LSM 9 and 10, compared to GQ’s 55 percent.Ford admits that GQ has been hit by the drop-off in adspend since last year, particularly as the mag targets the hard-hit luxury sector. In response, GQ’s frequency has been reduced from monthly to seven issues per year.
“GQ’s always been built on delivering top-end editorial and advertising,” Ford explains. “Rather than compromise on that, the reduced frequency decision was made. In other words, we were not prepared to start chasing advertising that would not fit into what the magazine stands for, and would be to the detriment of our other advertisers.”
With advertising revenues of just R9 million this year, GQ has certainly been hit harder than either of its competitors.
One person who thinks GQ has got its editorial mix wrong is Andrew Sneddon, the associate publisher of Men’s Health.
“The USA and UK editions of GQ are world class, but the local edition has made some very basic mistakes,” says Sneddon. “GQ SA should own fashion and style they shouldn’t be going the babe route. Leave that to FHM.”
Predictably, Ford disagrees: “You simply can’t compare the men’s fashion markets in the UK and USA with that in south Africa. However, the facts are we consistently have more fashion and grooming pages than any other men’s magazine. Ask any man who’s interested in style and fashion which magazine leads the way in South Africa and he’ll tell you GQ. Of course it’s in the interests of our competitors to peddle the babe line.”
In his interests or not, Sneddon certainly peddles the babe line. He’s openly sceptical about the advertising community’s willingness to embrace the lad mag phenomenon.
“Sex sells well around the world,” he says, “but ad support for the lad mags will always be an issue in South Africa.”
It’s a view that raises the hackles of FHM’s publisher.
“FHM’s biggest advertiser is Mercedes Benz,” says Eksteen. “Then there’s Tag Heuer, Giorgio Armani, L’Oreal, Hugo Boss, Diesel these aren’t brands one would expect to find linked to a magazine of problematic standing.”
Gordon Patterson, Managing Director of media agency Starcom, has seldom encountered unwillingness among advertisers to associate with lad mags.
“However,” he adds, “there have been clients who feel that the editorial environment impacts on their brands, and thus, irrespective of the readership profile, will not advertise.”
Given the kind of advertising revenue FHM generates, such advertisers would seem to be in the minority. But FHM now also benefits from a more established men’s lifestyle category one that is more acceptable to the advertising fraternity. The financial backing of a deep-pockets organisation like Naspers can’t hurt either.Similar titles have been less fortunate. Having paved the way for its own competition, Directions reached the end of the road in April 2000. And the local version of UK title Maxim, dogged by stop-start relationships with publishers, closed its doors at the end of the same year.
Despite the warning signs, however, there’s at least one publisher waiting in the wings to carve out a new niche in the men’s lifestyle space. Paul Kerton, the original editor of Men’s Health who’s now heading up publisher Style Lab, recently announced his intentions to import Razor, an upmarket US lad mag.
“It’ll be post-Men’s Health and GQ,” says Kerton, “for when a man grows up and gets a job and doesn’t get excited by Britney Spears.”