/ 23 August 2004

Seeing Black

Just weeks after Busisiwe Mahlaba was appointed editor of True Love magazine, Marketingweb ran a story headed: “Is True Love colourblind?”

‘The new editor has a tough job ahead of her,” wrote Kim Penstone. “Not only in terms of filling the very successful and glamourous shoes that [Khanyi] Dhlomo left behind, but also in attracting a new generation of readers to a magazine that unashamedly targets black women, in a country where it’s no longer acceptable to differentiate by the colour of your skin.”

It might be a little politically correct, but “Rainbow Nation” mores are trotted out by all the glossies: Femina‘s Clare O’Donoghue says her magazine is “aimed at women in their 30s and 40s, as opposed to particular racial demographics. Our editorial positioning reflects an age, lifestage and certain headspace. In speaking to the broader South African community, we are trying to leave behind the trappings of the past and see beyond colour.”

Marie Claire‘s Suzy Brokensha makes a similar statement: “The Marie Claire reader isn’t defined by an age or a race demographic. A high percentage of our readers are students, and an equally high percentage are women of 30-plus who are interested in the world around them. These groups don’t have age or income in common – just curiosity and intelligence.”

It’s what’s called psychographics – measurements based on readers’ ideologies, values, beliefs and attitudes; in the women’s magazine market, demographics are so last year.

These “psychological demographics” can be inherent to a brand. “Women who read Marie Claire all over the world would probably have more in common with each other than they would with readers of other women’s magazines,” Suzy says. Or they may need to be refined for a new market. “The US edition [of Shape] carries a more formal, exercise-focused tone of voice,” explains Shape editor Heather Parker, who developed an approach that placed greater focus on lifestyle elements when she launched the title locally. “South Africans don’t like to be cheer-led,” she explains. “They’ve a healthy cynicism about notions of perfection – and I always say: life is too diverse to be able to lead it while standing on a pedestal. It’s important to not take any of it too seriously – it’s about balance.”

The idea of colourblind, multi-cultural magazines is… noble; but flawed. I once heard an editor defend the racial make-up of a story she’d briefed by saying she didn’t care if it featured women who were “black, white or purple”. A black colleague of mine commented, under her breath, “there are no purple people”. Potential jokes aside, she’s correct. It’s facile to assume there’s no difference between women of different colours.

While media buyers have become increasingly interested in the black market (in 2003, True Love took the lion’s share of the women’s magazine advertising pie, overtaking Fair Lady and Cosmopolitan in ad revenue), media owners have become increasingly reluctant to use colour or race-based labels. Although every publisher and editor will admit to wanting to increase their black readership, attempting to do so by actually writing for black women is seen as a strategy that could alienate existing white readers. And anyway, most editors will ask, what makes a story “black”?

Post-1994, the issue has become crucial in content development. From texts to images, representing black, coloured and Indian women in easy context or juxtaposition with traditionally white-dominated content is something most titles struggle with.

While some editors are openly bored by what they perceive as the old “black-white thing”, many acknowledge the challenges in creating representative magazines.

Heather Parker says while most of Shape‘s text is locally-generated, the bulk of her magazine’s images are sourced from the US, through the title’s license agreement. This translates into a substantial cost-saving, but means images are predominantly white, and blonde. “We are conscious of the message we’re sending out,” Heather says, ‘and we make an effort, when we’re doing big shoots, to have a demographically representative line-up of models; also, when we’re sourcing agency pictures, the picture editor is quite focused on ‘normalising’ the range.”

With a limited number of foreign-sourced features per issue, Marie Claire‘s prominent use of “real people” stories allows its content to be immediately more representative – although Suzy is quick to point out her team is led by a story’s value rather than its colour.

Too often, however, the carefully-considered multi-culturalism is so contrived it makes Castle Lager’s “friendship” ads look spontaneous. Speaking from my own experience in women’s magazines, there’s a formula often put into practice: if your story portrays three real women, two can be white and at least one must be black (or coloured, or Indian). If the feature’s going to run with a generic image, you can resort to that Writer’s Friend the asterisk (as in: “Web designer Thando* [not her real name]”), and simply make it up. The black quota of text or images is also often made up of socially-conscious stories (about black homeless women, or coloured children with foetal alcohol syndrome) rather than the suburban white women that tend to be featured. This is changing, but the implied message of “look at what those blacks can do in the new SA” is unmistakable to the market it’s theoretically catering for.

“I see a lot of articles written for or commenting on black women,” says journalist Lerato Tshabalala, who has worked at Fair Lady and Drum and is now senior writer for Marie Claire and O. “Usually the person making the comments is white. Once, I even read a story about how black women were trying to copy white women; written by a white woman. The fact that a story appears in a magazine doesn’t automatically make it credible. These stories need to be written by a sister.”

If the colour issue is at “stealth” levels on the inside, it’s practically invisible on the covers. True Love, Sarie and Rooi Rose successfully generate their own covers (aside from the occasional appearance of Charlize on the latter two), featuring local celebrities – in fact, all three titles generate volumes of high-quality local content, from reportage to fashion, beauty and décor, and have been doing so for years. As the three biggest-selling women’s titles, it’s a formula that works well for their markets.

O features the same cover model each issue (Oprah), while Shape uses generic, non-celebrity models.

Other English titles, however, face very different challenges; using black or coloured women on perceived white titles almost always results in poorer sales. Even international figures like Halle Berry and Iman aren’t able to break the jinx. In a competitive marketplace, the double loss of revenue and circulation means many aren’t prepared to take the chance. The result is a tendency to rely on syndicated photos of white starlets, accompanied by usually bland agent-approved texts; generic, perhaps – but they do sell.

Femina has decided to embrace “the obsession with international celebrity’ on its covers. The magazine is, however, “very conscious about featuring South African women editorially,” says Clare. “Not necessarily ‘celebrities’,” she explains, “but real South African women with real stories to share.”

In marked contrast, Ann Donald announced, in a recent editor’s note, that “this year [would opt] for covers that promise – and deliver – something different.” Fair Lady‘s strategy has generated varying responses: while a Princess Diana cover generated strong sales and interest, subsequent covers featuring Josie Borain and Natalie du Toit fared less well on the stands. The fact that following issues boasted Victoria Beckham and then Noeleen Maholwana Sangqu as covers certainly delivers on the promise of difference, but one has to ask if such extremes won’t confuse readers.

Marie Claire relies on its international connections to secure celebrity covers and interviews, as does recently-launched Glamour. In the past, Elle has frequenly featured black models, but it’s not clear what strategy or direction the magazine will take under new editor Jacqui Myburgh. Cosmopolitan appears to have struck a healthy balance between celebrities with hot bodies and just plain supermodels.

There are, however, issues that go beyond just the colour of a magazine’s cover or inside stories: for some women, the Marketingweb article prompted a different concern – why was it acceptable to refer to True Love as a black magazine when other women’s titles weren’t referred to as white?

Well, that’s because they aren’t. White, that is. With the exception of Afrikaans titles Sarie and Rooi Rose (both with around 70% white readership), most of South Africa’s women’s magazines boast white readership less than 50% of their total – which means the majority of their readers are actually black, coloured or Indian (even though whites may make up the largest single group). Just 42% of Fair Lady readers are white, for example; at Femina, the figure is close to 48 %. For the record, more than 94% of True Love readers are black. [source Amps 2003B; figures provided by publishers].

Despite growing numbers of black readers, there’s been virtually no corresponding increase on the staff of the magazines. Equity often means little more than having a black receptionist. There’s certainly very little visible representation at a middle- or senior level, although most companies have now implemented formal internship programmes.

One of the most proactive publishing groups has been Associated Magazines, who recently embarked on a mission to up the numbers of its black staff. “We gave [group editorial consultant] Nadine Rubin the task of re-staffing our Johannesburg bureau with editorial representation across our titles,” says group editorial director and Cosmopolitan editor Vanessa Raphaely. “The majority of new positions were filled with black, Indian or coloured female staff members, in positions ranging from beauty editor and senior features writer to fashion assistant.” Nadine was also charged with providing training and mentoring to all of the new editorial staff members. “Associated Magazines has long been considered the ‘unofficial school’ of magazine journalism in South Africa,” Vanessa adds. “This culture of creating stars continues, and we’re extremely committed to training, mentoring and employing black, coloured or Indian female staff members.”

Finding young black talent to mentor is, in itself, a challenge.

Andy Davis, a freelance journalist and youth culture specialist, who lectures at UCT’s department of film and media studies, says he’s noticed his classes aren’t as integrated as he’d expected them to be. “Only about 20% of my class is non-white,” he says, adding the effects of the apartheid schooling system are still being felt. “A lot of kids show potential, but have gaps in their ability to express themselves in English – it’s their second or third language.” The immediate solution, he says, is for tertiary institutions to radically improve their bridging or foundation courses.

“I think journalism is a career black women are interested in, but it is hard to find a job,” Lerato adds. “White editors always worry about your use of grammar, because you’re black.” It took Lerato a year of door-knocking and cold-calling before anyone was willing to give her a break (she was eventually hired by Alice Bell, then editor of Fair Lady).

There’s also no guarantee any of the black students (or interns) will stay in journalism. Not when an editorial assistant can expect to earn under R3 000 per month, compared to double digits in the PR and marketing industries.

“Competent young black graduates are styling,” Andy says. “They have an array of choices.” With many of his black students coming from privileged rather than disadvantaged backgrounds, Andy has also noticed a sense of entitlement. “Their attitude is: ‘I’m going to waltz into a really nice job, so why should I be a skivvy and make coffee for the editor, especially when it’s an older white woman?'”

Black women who serve internships at magazines often move on to newspapers rather than stay in the glossy environment. “Newspapers are much more welcoming to black writers,” Lerato comments. “A newspaper has authenticity: you’re seen as a real journalist. Magazines are just seen as status things. I get a lot of slack: ‘Oh, you work for white people’s magazines.'” The long-term solution is the development of black-owned, black-funded publishing houses – a sentiment Lerato vocally supports.

That might take care of budding talent, but what about senior appointments needing to be filled now? Heather Parker raises a valid point when discussing Shape‘s editorial staff. “There’s a direct correlation between seniority and experience,” she says of her team (which comprises four coloured women and one black female intern, out of a total of 10). In a competitive magazine market, token appointments don’t cut it. The examples of Cynthia Vongai and Kuli Roberts highlight why.

But the cautionary tale might not be what we think. Says Lerato: “When Cynthia [Vongai] was exposed for plagiarism, one of the first things people said was ‘Oh well, she shouldn’t have taken the job in the first place if she wasn’t qualified.’ But look at Khanyi: she wasn’t ‘qualified’, but she made True Love what it is today. And that’s because she was able to get a proper mentorship.”

Which means, once again, the ball is in the editors’, publishers and media owners’ courts: the kids of today (and future magazine buyers of tomorrow) might be more colourblind than my generation, but young black women will still want to see magazines that reflect and represent who they are. If the existing array of glossy titles wants any piece the next generation of readers, they’re going to have to be a part of creating a new generation of writers.

Nechama Brodie is a freelance journalist, and director of African Magic Media. In addition to working with and for a number of South African women’s titles, she is a former assistant editor of Fair Lady, and was the launch editor of Fair Lady Bride and Sarie Bruid.

(Source: AMPS 2003B)

Women’s magazines by sales

1. Sarie 146 257

2. True Love 128 708

3. Rooi Rose 127 271

4. Cosmo 119 562

5. Fairlady 93 607

6. O 62190

7. Shape 55 065

8. Marie Claire 51 932

9. Femina 48 932

10. Elle 38 215

[Source: ABC July – December 2003]

Women’s magazines by ad revenue, January – December 2003

[brackets show position for 2002]

1. True Love (R42,202,939) [2]

2. Cosmopolitan (39,380,365) [3]

3. Fairlady (38,492,066) [1]

4. Sarie (25,828,905) [5]

5. Rooi Rose (23,669,952) [4]

6. Femina (17,379,497) [7]

7. Shape (17,379,497) [8]

8. Elle (17,379,497) [6]

9. Marie Claire (11,784,852) [9]

10. O Magazine (10,180,096) [10]

[Source: Nielsen Media Research]