Raschel magazine review

She’s here. Long awaited, but certainly worth that wait. Issue 1 of Raschel magazine has had a rocky road from the Kickstarter being fully funded to shipping, but these things happen with Kickstarter campaigns, especially when they’re run by one person with their own full-time life instead of a team. And this review isn’t about that – it’s about the content of the magazine and what it delivers for our community. So let’s dig into it together!

One disclaimer is that whilst I do have an article featured in this magazine, for which I was paid, the opinions below are entirely my own and from the point of view of a reader.

Entirely community-led

Like many lolita zines that continue to pop up these days, Raschel consists entirely of pieces written specifically for and selected from community members’ submissions. My memory isn’t what it used to be, so if I misremember anything about the process, the mistake is entirely mine. However, I do seem to recall there being a submission stage followed by a selection stage, meaning that not everything that was submitted necessarily made the cut. Having the final copy in hand, I think it shows. Whilst there are multiple pieces that are similar in the broad subject, no two are exactly the same and each one brings something unique to the table. For example, the interview with The Black Ribbon has a much heavier focus on the events the brand puts on compared to the interview with Haenuli, which is much more personal about the designer, compared to the one with Belladonna that puts the spotlight on the evolution of a brand that’s been around for so long. Every page offered something of interest and I haven’t found any bits that made me feel like I wasn’t the intended audience for it or like I was “too advanced” for something. The selection delivered a magazine that’s not rehashing the same old tips for newbies, though at the cost of some broader thematic repetition.

A sneak preview of what's inside.

Western visuals

That was the first thing that struck me, even once a few pages were previewed to backers shortly before shipping began. The inside of Raschel looks a lot more like some of the crafting or women’s magazines that I’ve flicked through in the UK and in Poland than like any Japanese-produced fashion magazine that I’ve ever seen. This doesn’t detract from its visual appeal: every article is laid out in a very clear way that guides the reader through the pages and how to read it, making the important information jump out. In contrast, I have in the past found some Japanese magazines prioritise the aesthetic over readability, e.g. with not enough contrast between the text and the background or by favouring a more “cluttered” look. As much as I appreciate GLBs and the others for their look, it brings joy through sentimentality, I highly appreciate that Raschel is not a strain on my eyes and that I can comfortably read every word. I also imagine that this will make it easier on any non-English speakers who pick up a copy, as Google Translate and other translation apps should have no problems with picking up the text from the page. Aesthetically the choice of colours may be divisive, I’m unsure myself how I feel about it from a purely aesthetic point of view, and I agree that sometimes the desire to make it clear and readable kind of went the other way by leaving a lot of empty spaces where there might not be much need for that, e.g. the coord photos pages. Whilst overall the magazine looks a little less than what I expect from EGL magazines, it’s also distinct from every other EGL zine that I’ve ever seen, making it more memorable. But I very much see how this could have people divided.

Oh look, it me up there. What a line-up of contributors as well!

All that you’d expect…

I’ve touched on the content already, so this will expand on that very briefly. Raschel offers everything that you could reasonably expect and want from a fashion magazine. The issue is relatively heavy on interviews, there are pages spotting indie brands, which I personally found great, and reader-submitted outfits, you’ll find some craft-related tutorials, an event report, a quiz, and even a one-page short story. Some of the features, very likely because of who they were written by (i.e. Western lolitas and not professional journalists or editors) feel like reading someone’s blog posts in the best possible way: comforting, cosy, and entirely relatable. Raschel’s look may be less kawaii, but what’s actually on the pages feels familiar to what you’d see in a Gothic and Lolita Bible. I wish that the paper doll, a cute idea in and of itself, was either a separate insert or on a single page with nothing on the other side, as this way forces people to either photocopy it or cut it out straight from the magazine. The paper is of great quality, glossy without being reflective and shiny, which makes it easy to turn the pages over. It has a higher end feel to it, which in turn makes it feel like the magazine will be a memento for a long time to come.

All the things that bring magazine readers joy.

… and keeping the reader on their toes

What I mean by that is that where I might have expected articles with similar themes to be grouped together, the magazine has instead opted to spread them out across the whole issue. Whether you like this or not will come down to personal preference. I can see how someone might want all the crafty/tutorial-esque features to be grouped together and for indie brand previews to be grouped together and so on. However, I lean more on the favourable side because it made my reading experience varied and made me less likely to skip a feature or to flip past a few pages. Raschel invites you to make reading this an occasion, not a hasty flick through what interest you the most. And once you sit down to fully delve into it, the surprise of the next page not being “more of the same” keeps you engaged and absorbing even more. That really worked well for me and I imagine (hope) that it will for many others too.

An important reminder for both the sewists and the readers.

Issue 2?

I have no more information on this than you do. The editorial pages don’t give any clues as to future intentions, no matter which way you may slice the words in search of a hidden meaning. Truth is also that things are different now than when the Kickstarter campaign launched. If another crowdfunding campaign were to be done for Issue 2, it may need to raise its funding goals due to the rising costs of materials and production, to cover a bigger team, to potentially account for some drop in US print orders with people over there still figuring out what their new tariffs mean for them, and many more factors. That’s all before we even consider whether the final product is enough for people to forget about the unexpectedly long wait and if Raschel fills in a niche that no other community-created zine has filled before. Hype can rise and fall at the drop of a hat and needs to be cultivated for a successful crowdfunding campaign again, which is always different when there is a previous one of something to compare it to.

No crowdfunding without the community behind it.

I’d personally love to see another Raschel come to life and to see it grow. Issue 1 was a great snapshot of our community at that specific moment in time, and I would love to see how the magazine evolves. Obviously now that there is an issue to read, it will bring with it more reviews and direct feedback that would shape the look and feel of Issue 2. Maybe I’m the minority in enjoying my content ungrouped. Maybe someone new would join the team whose creative vision would steer it into a different direction. Maybe another artist is commissioned, so that with each issue Raschel’s feel evolves, not unlike how themes made each GLB volume unique. There are so many possibilities and options, all of which rely entirely on the lolita community putting their money where their mouth is and backing Issue 2 if one were to be announced. And, of course, on Kate as the chief editor to have it in her to put out a call for another one.

A magazine to perfectly encapsulate fond memories of a wonderful event <3

For now, all that I can say is that if you haven’t been able to back Raschel when the Kickstarter was live and want to see it all for yourself, then you should keep an eye out on their Instagram page. Leftover stock is due to be sold on Etsy and it may be possible to purchase digital copies too. And if nothing else, you’ll find out when an Issue 2 is in the works the moment that it’s announced.

Are lolitas parasocial with the brands?

Sometimes it just takes one person to put a thing to words to get your mind whirring. Which is exactly what happened when a friend said that lolitas have an interesting relationship with brands that almost feels parasocial. Do we? Is our community unique in that? Or is it a marker of the times that we live in, where a degree of parasociality underpins nearly all of our consumer interactions?

Photo by Alok Sharma from Pexels.com.

Before anything else, I want us to refrain from dramatising for a second here because the mere existence of parasociality in ourselves doesn’t immediately mean that we’re obsessive stalkers with no boundaries who are a danger to society and themselves. I’ve observed it in my partner in how he talks about the streamers he follows – he’s very aware of that and doesn’t engage with these creators any more than just watching their videos. I’ve observed it in myself in how I am more likely to shop with a company that’s championed by the creators that I follow and even in how I think about them. And I’ve definitely observed it amongst lolitas, even if it may sometimes be disguised in a more ‘fangirly’ outfit. People don’t just ‘stan’ Angelic Pretty or frequently buy from Atelier Pierrot – they talk about Maki and Asuka’s designs specifically, they comment on Connie’s posts as if they were friends, they know the names of the brand shop staff and follow their own accounts, they will make their decisions on event attendance or ticket tier based solely on that brand being a guest, and so on.

Without getting into the generational argument of the matter, I find that people who engage with more online things than offline ones pretty much always display a thread of parasocial behaviour or thinking. Again, not all of it is alarm-worthy, and it seems a natural extension of  what creators are willing to share of themselves and how much they reach out to their fans. Creators and platforms that share more of their personal life foster more parasocial relationships with their fans than those that promote clearer boundaries between work/creativity/content and life/rest/personal stuff. We see it happen in large scale from as well-known as Swifties taking the Easter egg hunting too far to as commonplace as streamers (who are already showing their own rooms, albeit curated for the views) openly discussing their own lives with people directly in the chat/livestream.

That so much of lolita fashion and much of its community is, and always has been, based online places it in the same broad bracket. We see individual lolitas take pictures and film reels in their own rooms, maybe drop a hint of their personal life matters, and form friendships with certain people that may eventually transcend online spaces at international events or during travels. But many don’t then separate that from when interacting with lolita models and/or designers who are doing the same stuff. Some lolitas translate being a frequent buyer with having a personal connection because in a community this small repeat purchases really are noticeable. Especially the one-person-owned indie brands love to see their creations be worn and may comment something complimentary, but that doesn’t immediately make you besties – it makes you a creator and a loyal fan. Amidst the anonymity and obvious money-grabbing from most online shopping, the change in how personal shopping feels when it’s from an indie brand (a handwritten thank you note, a few sweets with your order, a comment on or a repost of your post tagging them) is so refreshing that it can get into people’s heads. 

And I don’t think that this is necessarily restricted to just lolita fashion. I think any alternative community is prone to some degree of parasociality in our commercial interactions because the very nature of the community being alternative makes people band together. And the smaller or more specific the niche, the harder people will cling onto something that they feel is ‘theirs’ or ‘one of them’. For example, the kind of parasociality that I observe in lolita fashion is probably comparable to what I see people in the TTRPG communities display if they watch a lot of people playing the games on YouTube (Dimension 20, Critical Role, Adventure is Nigh etc.), but far less than romance readers who seem to more often seek to engage with other readers rather than with the authors and creators (though they may still form micro-communities around individual authors, especially if they are online more than others). As such, it isn’t so much about how much individual creators are online that drives the parasocial behaviours from their communities as much as it is about how much of that whole niche interest is confined to online spaces only. Certain hobbies and interests have made it easier to engage offline. Becoming a romance reader is far more accessible thanks to the relatively low cost of books and access to libraries, with shops putting on dedicated events that’ll take place all over the country at a low cost or even for free, than attending a lolita meetup, where you need to spend however much on at least one coord and then some for the meetup itself (travel, food, tickets etc.). The cost barrier of lolita is what creates the online lurkers and then pushes people towards more parasocial relationships.

Hopping to art galleries is a very different level of hobby than hopping to art galleries with lolitas and as a lolita.
Photo by ΘSWΛLD from Pexels.com.

But ultimately, lolita brands, indie or otherwise, are still businesses. No matter how many times you may have met their designer or representative at events, how much they might share of their personal life on their Instagram stories, how often you buy from them, how much they are an active part of the wider lolita community (that isn’t directly your own), your relationship is still that of a customer/fan and a seller/creator. The expectations that they will do something because it’s best for the community instead of doing whatever furthers their business model and gains them the most profit is misplaced at best, and the way that some people respond to it as if the decision was an actual personal slight is certainly lacking in that perspective. Whilst you should expect good customer service with timely response times and offers of resolution to problems from every business, the line stops whenever any personal feelings enter the picture.

Does that mean then that we should treat brands differently? Aren’t we all one community, the brands as much the wearers of it as they are the providers of the clothes that allow us to group ourselves based on a fashion style? I’m afraid that I have bad news for anyone asking these questions: nothing is this black and white in real life. Yes, brands are still a part of our community. There wouldn’t be one without them because, frankly, buying is way easier and faster than making. There’s nothing to say that it’s impossible to genuinely befriend someone who designs and/or sells lolita items, and take your relationship from parasociality into something real. That’s no different to befriending another comm member, so long as it happens just as naturally and isn’t forced by one side. At the same time, yes, lolitas should expect to treat brands and their representatives differently from ‘just regular lolitas’. They have a job to do which has a real impact on their livelihoods and potentially that of other people. You don’t have to agree with their business decisions, but you have to respect that ultimately their priorities are different to yours and you often don’t have the full picture that informs their decisions. Don’t take their business decisions personally or as a slight against the entire lolita fashion community because no-one has the power to speak for the whole lolita fashion community as we are not a monolith.

So yeah, the relationship that lolitas have with brands catering to us is certainly more complex than just a client-seller one. And whilst for the most part it makes our community a better place, by allowing us these close connections and reducing the hierarchical boundaries between the creators and the wearers, when it goes sour, it’s the kind of sour that really contorts your face into some weird shapes. Lolitas would do well to remember that no creator, whether an individual or a small chain with factory manufacturers, owes them anything beyond product quality control and responsive and respectful customer service. If more people in our community responded to those customer-seller boundaries, instead of projecting everything from their personalities to their feelings onto whichever brand or brand representative they are fans of, I feel like our whole community would benefit from that.