Mutha Magazine Alison Mutha Magazine [ SECURE ⇒ ]

To pull an Alison Mutha meant to tell the ugly, beautiful, Lego-covered, lipstick-smeared truth about your life, and to hand it to a stranger with no apology.

Inside were no airbrushed photos of serene mothers breastfeeding in linen dresses. There was an essay about finding a half-eaten gummy bear in your hair at a job interview. A comic strip about the feral rage of stepping on a Lego at 3 AM. A recipe for "Depression Pasta" – butter, noodles, and the tears of your toddler. mutha magazine alison mutha magazine

The magazine arrived on a Tuesday, wrapped in brown butcher paper and tied with kitchen twine. Alison Mutha, who had started the thing on a whim and a prayer in her cramped Philadelphia apartment, held it like a newborn. To pull an Alison Mutha meant to tell

And the name Alison Mutha ? It stopped being just a name. It became a verb. A comic strip about the feral rage of

She used the $200 to print 500 more copies. She wrote a new column called "Ask Your Mutha," where she answered questions with brutal honesty. ("Dear Mutha: My child only eats beige food. Is she dying?" Answer: "No. She is thriving on a diet of air, spite, and chicken nuggets. You are doing fine.")

The book club was composed of six women between the ages of 68 and 82. They passed the copies around like contraband. By Friday, Martha had written Alison a letter, handwritten in looping cursive: