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Cleo inspired and empowered generations of women, but now it's time to let go.

By Jessica Martin.

Cleo magazine empowered generations of women to embrace their independence and sexuality, so to see it fold after so many decades is sad. But maybe the time is right to let it go, writes Jessica Martin.

When I accepted my job as photo editor at Cleo in 2009, I was too excited to have scored my first role in magazines to really pay any mind to the significance of the magazine I was entering into.

To me, Cleo was just a glossy mag with the latest IT celebrity on the cover each month.

(Or, as it turns out, any celebrity they could get approval to run: An unsavoury article written about Nicole Richie years earlier had upset her very influential agent who refused, forevermore, to approve for publication images of her growing stable of A-list clients. It made for really fun and not-at-all stressful times come print deadline.)

And, if I’m shamefully honest, I didn’t even read it.

A cover from the '70s.

The history, and the sense of just what an influential masthead Cleo was, came a little later, when the ABC started producing Paper Giants, its two-part TV miniseries about the origins of the women's title.

I remember my editor at the time, Sarah Oakes, explaining how at the eleventh hour, media mogul Kerry Packer had lost the rights to publish Cosmopolitan to Fairfax, and as revenge he instructed editor Ita Buttrose to create a similar magazine that they could launch ahead of their rival.

It worked. Cleo's first issue sold out within two days, and the magazine, dedicated to shedding light on issues women had never publicly spoken about, became a sensation and a must-buy every month.

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Cleo's articles empowered women

Looking through the archives to pay tribute to its 40th anniversary a few years ago, I discovered Cleo was what all magazine editors wished their publications to be. The articles were topical, well researched, and well written; they were serious when they needed to be, but oh-so-cheeky when not.

It was fun - every page contained something that held your attention for more than 10 seconds, and the articles, beauty and fashion coverage actually did do what we now think magazines don't - they empowered women by giving them permission to talk about the issues affecting them more openly and honestly than ever before.

Cleo's articles were non-judgemental. You wanted to learn how to strip for your man? Here's a step-by-step guide. You were worried about how your body would be affected by childbirth, or how to better be a mother, or lover? Not a problem, let's talk about it.

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As Lisa Wilkinson, Cleo's editor between 1984 and 1994, writes at the Huffington Post: "At your best, you were fun, informative, lusty and liberating, and several generations of Australian women are in your debt." I believe it.

From 2009 to 2013, Cleo went through several big redesigns. By the time I started working there, the rumours that it was about to fold were already becoming louder than whispers.

A friend of mine, an editor at ACP, actually advised me not to take the job, or at the very least ask for more money. I obviously ignored the former, but having worked up the courage to ask for a measly $3,000 more in salary, I very comfortably lived well outside my means for the next, well... it's still happening.

Cleo editors experimented with more sex, less sex

Every redesign held the promise of a fresh start for Cleo. My favourite was under Sarah Oakes - the team and the greater magazine and fashion industries loved what she and art director Liz North created, but Cleo's publishers thought it was "too cool", and little by little, we had to rein it in again.

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One of the nude male centrefolds from the '70s and '80s.

Some editors experimented with more sex, some less. Some went for indie actresses on the cover to try to incite a different audience. Some went even more mainstream.

We were told we needed to write for a younger audience, and then an older one. We were given market research about just who exactly our readership was - I don't think it's a coincidence that I can't remember - but the sad reality was magazines, for a plethora of reasons (not least because of the media's shift to online publishing), just weren't as relevant to young women as they used to be.

Where online publications were breaking new ground - having important, of-the-moment conversations about politics, race, gender and sexuality - women's magazines lagged behind.

Cleo staff proud to be part of Australian history

The vast majority of the staff I worked with during my time at Cleo were proud to be a part of Australian history. We truly loved our magazine, and its scandalous beginnings were boastful lore - what a time 1972 was to be alive! We tried - and I know the staff there still try - to produce something young women wanted to immerse themselves in.

Our monthly features meetings were akin to therapy sessions. Our writing team knew everything (everything!) about the issues we had with our friends, housemates, parents and partners. We thought that if we were going through these things, surely other young women were, too.

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When then-editor Sharri Markson gave me my own sex and relationships column in 2013, I felt lucky to be able to write openly and frankly about my dating trials and tribulations, successes and (epic) failures.

The columns that attracted the most reader feedback were always the ones in which I was unabashedly honest about how difficult being a woman navigating life and love can often be.

No matter how much content we can lose ourselves in online, we still want to feel like we're normal; that we're not alone in feeling what we feel. The best writing, and the best publications, do that.

If anything, Cleo could have pushed the envelope even further these last few years, and become even more inclusive of a generation of people who are bucking gender and sexuality norms, and who want their voices heard.

Young women today are incredibly socially aware. Why, when they have the internet at their fingertips, would they pay $7 to read only about white, straight women? But then, of course, there are the advertisers to please.

So maybe the time is right to let Cleo go. It's held on for so long, and without a more comprehensive digital strategy, I don't see how Bauer can turn it around.

It's sad, of course it is, for both personal and historical reasons, but just because it's gone doesn't mean it's not still iconic.

This post originally appeared on the ABC and was republished here with full permission. 
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