“Hormones suck,” Tavi Gevinson writes in the introduction to Rookie Yearbook Two, “But being a young person doesn’t always.” Like its predecessor, Yearbook One, this edition compiles the greatest hits of the 17 year-old wünderkind’s online magazine Rookie, with a few exclusives limited to the print edition.
Clocking in at over 450 pages, the collection features articles, interviews, illustrations, photo diaries — even stickers. If you’re a regular Rookie reader, you’ve probably already picked up a copy.
But what about those of us who aren’t a part of Rookie’s target audience? In Gevinson’s first Rookie article, she described the magazine as “a place to make the best of the beautiful pain and cringe-worthy awkwardness of being an adolescent girl.” Most of the publication’s regular writers, illustrators and contributors actually are teenaged girls and young women, and regular columns focus on makeup tutorials, fashion how-tos and feminine hygiene tips. So what does Rookie offer for those of us who don’t fit into the mag’s main demographic?
FYI, quite a lot. Even more than its predecessor, Yearbook Two climbs down from the “No Boys Allowed” treehouse. There are articles about racism, atheism, safe sex, honesty, self love, friendship, confidence and (sigh) puberty, that I wish I had read when I was in high school. Even the quote-unquote girlier entries shine with enough wit and warmth to invite even the most hyper masculine readers. Each page is beautifully and meticulously laid out, featuring collages, illustrations and photographs from a variety of young, up-and-coming artists.
There are also interviews with some seriously cool people — Morrissey, Chris Ware, Carrie Brownstein and Emma Watson, to name a few. Gevinson and co. are clever conversationalists, and their dialogs read like educated late-night gab sessions.
In between articles, Yearbook Two also includes hand-drawn mixtapes, each one custom made for activities like road trips, study sessions or hanging out with fictional characters. As an adamant mixtape maker myself, I have the utmost respect for Rookie’s musical taste — an eclectic mix of alt-rock pioneers, cheesy eighties synth jams and the occasional Taylor Swift single.
Gevinson and co. are clever conversationalists, and their dialogs read like educated late-night gab sessions.
Apart from its readability and nonstop awesomeness, Yearbook Two also offers valuable insight into the teenage girl state of mind. I would highly recommend this collection to parents raising young women: the articles are illuminating, insightful and empathetic, and might help mom find common ground with her sweet sixteen daughter. Men young and old are equally likely to find something here to enjoy; whether it’s the mixtapes, the illustrations or the articles that help shed light on the mystery of the opposite sex, Rookie can function as a field guide to teenagehood regardless of your gender.
I was introduced to Rookie by my partner, who has been a fan of the magazine since day one. Though I was skeptical at first, I quickly fell in love with Rookie’s DIY ethos and its earnest approach to the universal woes of adolescence.
I bought my sister Yearbook One, read every interview with Gevinson I could get my hands on, and promoted the publication tirelessly to friends and family. Since then, I’ve seen the magazine’s popularity balloon — young girls are making zines, building flower crowns and listening to records, all while reading the thrice-a-day updates of Rookie’s online blog. I have hope for a bright future.
Above all, Rookie’s biggest success is that it’s empowering to young women without speaking for them. So many products and publications targeted at the female tween demographic are either laden with advertisements or attempts to keep young women firmly inside established gender roles. Rarely do teenage girls get a chance to speak for themselves — even in school or at home, they’re often overshadowed, belittled as over-emotional or outright ignored.
Rookie, apart from being one of the most inventive, clever and downright awesome online mags around, gives young women a chance to speak up. Turns out, they have a lot to say.
