My journey into the realm of teenage crushes began unexpectedly at the age of 11 in a grocery store. While my mother was busy selecting vegetables, I found myself wandering toward the magazine aisle, where a vibrant BOP magazine caught my attention with its bold, pink, bubble-lettered title. Although I had encountered this teen fan magazine before, I had never truly engaged with it until that moment. The cover prominently displayed Kirk Cameron, but it was the smaller image of Michael J. Fox that captivated me completely.
I adored watching “Family Ties” reruns, and it puzzled me why I felt such a strong attachment to the show. Every evening at 7:30 p.m., I would sneak into my parents’ room to watch it on their tiny television, avoiding the living room where my family gathered. It felt like a private ritual, and I hadn’t quite grasped its significance until I laid eyes on Michael J. Fox’s irresistible charm on that BOP cover. At that moment, I realized I was in love—I yearned to gaze at his face around the clock. I simply had to own that magazine.
When I spotted the $1.95 price tag, my heart sank. I could almost hear my mother’s voice saying no. I mustered the courage to ask, and received a lukewarm “Maybe later,” which I knew was code for “Not a chance!” Before placing the magazine back, I quickly flipped through its pages and stumbled upon a mini poster of Michael J. Fox. It felt like destiny! Fueled by adolescent hormones and his adorable smile, I made an impulsive decision that would change my life.
I stole the mini poster. As I glanced around to ensure my mom and other shoppers were distracted, I carefully tore it out, trying hard to avoid damaging it. “You’re stealing!” my Better Self chastised. “But it’s for love!” my Hormonal Self retorted. After securing my prize, I nervously folded it and tucked it into my pocket, expecting a security guard to pounce on me at any moment. The guilt loomed over me as we drove home, but upon entering my room and seeing Michael’s glossy face poised to comfort me, all remorse vanished. I placed it under a book to flatten the creases and eventually taped it inside my Trapper Keeper for constant admiration at school.
However, a single poster wasn’t enough. A few days later, I returned to the grocery store and spotted him once again on a new issue of BOP, as if he had been waiting for my return. Flipping through the magazine, I discovered a tantalizing centerfold—Michael sporting jeans and a white shirt, glancing back with a look reminiscent of a Canadian Bruce Springsteen. I couldn’t resist; I took it.
Rest assured, I ceased my thieving spree after that centerfold, overwhelmed by guilt. Yet, my hunger for Michael J. Fox memorabilia was insatiable. I became desperate to find every poster available, realizing I needed more than just BOP to satisfy my cravings. I couldn’t overlook the treasures found in other teen magazines. Tiger Beat, for instance, offered wallet-sized cutouts that were simply irresistible!
Shortly after my centerfold escapade, I earned some money and finally bought a magazine, meticulously cutting out every Michael J. Fox pinup and article. As the New Kids on the Block rose to fame, my obsession with teen magazines escalated. I no longer purchased my magazines at the grocery store; instead, I turned to my classmate, Finn, whose stepmother owned a bookstore. He had access to all the latest teen magazines, including the elusive Big Bopper magazine, known for its oversized centerfolds. Finn offered them at a discount, but they would sell out quickly.
Yes, I had a dealer. No judgment, please. Despite my walls being plastered with posters—one wall dedicated to group shots of the New Kids and another displaying individual cutouts of each member—I still felt an insatiable desire for more.
One morning, I rushed to Finn’s side as soon as I arrived at school, eager to see what treasures he had in store. However, when he opened his bag, he only had a YM magazine and a Thrasher. “What am I supposed to do with these? Where’s the good stuff!?” I exclaimed, frustration boiling over. He informed me that another girl had snatched up all the desirable magazines, and I nearly lost my composure trying to get her name. It was Bella. I remember plotting ways to confront her, convinced I could take her down and reclaim what I believed was rightfully mine.
I had a problem, and I knew it. Eventually, I apologized to Bella for my jealousy and declined her offer of an extra BOP issue. This moment marked the decline of my magazine poster obsession; I didn’t renew my subscription to Super Teen and started ignoring Finn’s morning magazine displays. By the year’s end, I had taken down most of my posters, leaving only a couple of Donnie Wahlberg’s pictures, which were soon replaced by a large poster of Mark Wahlberg in his Calvin Kleins.
Reflecting on that phase of my life brings a mix of nostalgia and embarrassment. I cherish the carefree spirit of my youth—when my biggest dilemma was how to sneak a poster out of a grocery store—yet I feel ashamed of my brief descent into theft and my intense rivalry with a classmate.
To whoever purchased a BOP magazine and discovered a pull-out poster missing: I’m truly sorry.
Summary
This nostalgic reflection captures the author’s whimsical journey through adolescent crushes and magazine obsession, highlighting the lengths one would go for a favorite celebrity. The tale weaves in themes of innocence, rivalry, and the exuberance of teenage years, along with a touch of regret for past antics.