I certainly don't hold it against a zine to be in black and white (that would be silly, considering), but I can't help but notice when a zine goes full colour. And wow does it serve this zine so well. There is such vibrancy and passion in the words that the colour printing only adds to that.
Woolf Pack #4 opens with a gorgeous, colour 'merbabes' comic encompassing the ideas (I think) that being yourself doesn't mean you don't have to be alone and how today's technologies make it even easier for us to connect. I don't think I've been so 'welcomed' to reading a zine. Lovely stuff.
I don't usually point out specific stories even in collaborations because it's about the zine as a whole for me – and this zine is no exception in that I have enjoyed each and every piece in this.
Still, I have to mention the piece 'Vagina Christmas' because it spoke volumes to me in a way nothing has before. Rebecca Cheers talks about many things surrounding her experiences with vaginismus. At one point, she writes:
I made that crack about it sounding like ‘vagina Christmas’ every time I spoke to a new doctor, because I thought it mad me sound less sad.
In the moment I read that, I felt less alone in the world. How many times had I made jokes at my own expense, about my own, painful, experiences? (My personal one is the Pap smear treasure hunt jokes…) That one moment of connection made me think about the whole piece in a more personal way – especially regarding sexual education (or lack thereof).
I love being inspired to think without being told I’m an idiot.
The great moment for me with this zine is when I was nearing the end, really enjoying everything, and then I realised that the comic I enjoyed so much at the beginning utterly applied to my ‘feels journey’ with the zine itself. Woolf Pack #4 has left me feeling that much more able to be part of this community of awesome ‘merbabes’.