Front Magazine: The Glory, The Chaos, and the Bittersweet Goodbye

Ah, Front Magazine – if you were a lad in the 2000s, you knew what it meant to pick up a copy. This wasn’t just a magazine; it was a mate that handed you a pint, smacked you on the back, and dragged you into a world of cheeky humor, stunning alt models, and the kind of unapologetic mischief you wished you could bottle up and keep forever.

It’s easy to think of Front as just another lads’ mag, but it wasn’t trying to be polished or classy. Nah, it was scrappy, loud, and for the kind of bloke who’d rather be at a punk gig or downing a pint than reading “life tips for success.” So, let’s take a good, long look at the highs, the chaos, and how this absolute legend of a magazine met its end.

The Covers That Defined a Generation

First thing’s first: those covers. You’d see a copy of Front on the stands, and it hit you like a shot of adrenaline. They had this rebellious energy – girls with tattoos and piercings, often in band tees, always with that look that said, “Yeah, I’m trouble.” It wasn’t about looking airbrushed or polished. Instead, the covers had grit, the models had personality, and it felt like the mag was daring you to pick it up and take a peek inside.

But Front didn’t just rely on models alone – every cover looked like a punk gig poster, with bold, chaotic layouts, crazy colors, and headlines like “How to Be a Legend” or “Survive a Zombie Apocalypse.” This was a mag for people who saw rules as something to be bent, or better yet, broken. You could spot a Front mag from across the room, and it had that vibe that made it impossible to ignore.

The Humor That Was Pure Bants

Front didn’t mess about with trying to be “respectable.” It was here to make you laugh – and not just a chuckle, either. The writers were all about throwing in the most outrageous, daft stuff they could think up. Where else would you find articles telling you how to live like a broke rockstar or “10 Ways to Not Be a Complete Idiot on a Date” (which, if you followed the tips, guaranteed you’d be single by the end)?

Half the articles read like they’d been scribbled down by your funniest, daftest mate after a night out. There was a whole section where they’d throw out random “guy etiquette” tips – stuff like “always help a mate with a hangover” and “if you accidentally spill his pint, you owe him one for life.” It was the lad Bible, but written in a way that had no filter and zero pretense. The laughs were real, and the spirit was pure “don’t take yourself too seriously, mate.”

The DIY Punk Vibe – Like a Mosh Pit in Magazine Form

Front had this DIY vibe that made it stand out from the crowd. Where other mags were glossy and full of fancy ads, Front kept it gritty. It was like if a punk band turned into a magazine. The pages had a rough, edgy style with layouts that looked like they’d been thrown together in a mate’s basement, complete with doodles, scribbled notes, and pages that looked like they’d been ripped out of a notebook. It was for blokes who liked their music loud, their jeans ripped, and their pubs a bit rowdy.

But it wasn’t just the style – the content was all about that “alternative lifestyle” too. They had features on punk bands, tattoo artists, skateboarding legends, and the kind of mad stories you’d only find in the subculture. It was for lads who didn’t care about convention. You wouldn’t find fitness tips or dating advice to “impress the in-laws.” Instead, Front gave you “10 things to do at a gig” or “the best hangover snacks.” It was for the bloke who just wanted a laugh and a bit of chaos in his life.

And Then, the End…

But, as with all good things, Front Magazine eventually met its match. In a changing world where everyone started taking themselves a bit too seriously, Front was like the last lad standing. The early 2010s brought on a shift – magazines started going online, social media exploded, and people just weren’t picking up mags the way they used to. What once felt like the beating heart of alternative lad culture slowly started to fade.

By 2014, Front called it quits. It was a dark day for anyone who loved a mag that let them be a bit of a hooligan, who looked forward to the laughs and that feeling of being part of something mad and loud. The end of Front was like the end of an era, the kind of farewell that hits you because you know it can’t be replaced.

A Legacy in Every Lad Who Lived It

While Front might be gone, the spirit lives on. Every time a bloke gets a cheeky tattoo, heads to a gig, or does something just for the hell of it, there’s a little bit of Front there. It’s the magazine that taught us it’s alright to have a laugh, break a rule, and take life a little less seriously. Front may have hung up its boots, but its legacy is alive in every lad who still appreciates a pint, a bit of banter, and a life lived with a smirk and a wink.

Cheers to Front Magazine – the mag that reminded us life’s too short to be boring.