I'm not resistant to change. One of my personal quirks is loving to take a different route whenever I go to a familiar destination, like the post office or the store.
My dad was a career Navy officer, so it was an entire childhood for me of uprooting every two years, or so, and moving to a new house, a new school, new friends. Fun.
People never know which "me" they're going to see on lunch dates: Hippie Cookiecrumb? Goth Cookiecrumb? How long will her hair be? What color? Is she doing nail polish anymore or was that just a bad experiment? Good shoes or cheapo rubber flipflops? Silly girl.
But yesterday my Saveur magazine arrived in the mail, and I kinda recoiled in horror. It was limp and flimsy, and the typography on the cover was very cluttered and noisy. Clunky, even. I had to check to see if Colman Andrews was still the editor.
It wasn't the same.
A peek inside proved me right. There's been a slight redo, a tweak, after 10 years of very classy design.
(I did see a couple of dishes I'm inspired to make, though. Whew.)