Elle France is so iconic, sometimes I forget it is Elle, and it is French. It's right there, in the name. Yet, I remain oblivious. I treat it differently than I treat any other Elle, holding it to a higher standard. A cover like this is sobering that way: a reminder that this is a local magazine with every intention to stay so and serve a community that not necessarily includes me. I don't know who Juliette Armanet is. I don't even deem this a proper fashion magazine cover. I have no idea what to say about it: not my department. Curiously, my faith in Elle France doesn't waver because of that. I don't understand how it works. I just know it does.