In an effort to lampoon the pop-culture fascination with mail-order brides, editors of the hipster women's magazine Jane have introduced the Mail-Order Husband Catalogue.

The four-page, tongue-in-cheek spread appears in the September issue and spotlights 19 potential mates, most of whom responded to national newspaper ads for "an exciting new career as someone's husband.''

But what began as an "ironic, equal-opportunity sexism statement'' is spawning a lot more than marriage proposals. Not only has the catalogue raised the ire of academics and some subscribers, at least one unwitting male suitor is threatening to sue.

Paul Keller, aka Husband No. 11, is furious he wasn't informed about Jane's involvement in "this mail-order hubby crap.'' Although the newspaper ads advised that respondents would be exposed to upwards of two million women, it wasn't stated that the exposure would be through a top-selling periodical, as opposed to a private matchmaking service.

"If I had known about it then, I would have never done it,'' says Keller, a 28-year-old military man from Arizona. "I plan on taking legal action towards this magazine, if at all possible.''

A spokeswoman for Jane says the mail-order husbands were kept in the dark because the magazine needed to attract "men who really, seriously wanted to be husbands. Not publicity-seekers who just wanted to be in a magazine.''

Christopher Slater, aka Husband No. 3, was let in on the scheme by a friend working at Jane. The 34-year-old student teacher from California, described in his Jane profile as being "cleaner than your last boyfriend,''
volunteered for the catalogue on a lark.

Since the magazine hit newsstands earlier this week, Slater has received more than 50 e-mails and one marriage proposal. Unlike Keller, he says the experience has been overwhelmingly positive.

"I think everybody understands this was done with a sense of humour in mind,'' Slater says. "I'm sorry to hear some of (the mail-order husbands) aren't having a fun time with this, but you can't make everybody happy.''

At first glance, the catalogue looks like a collection of personal ads framed as a socio-political send-up. But with the exception of a cheeky three-sentence intro, a Canadian academic says the piece lacks the context and composition required of an effective parody.

"They ended up missing all the right targets and perpetuated the notion that a man who wants to get married is pathetic," says Rebecca Sullivan, assistant professor of communications at the University of Calgary. "They certainly haven't dealt with the main reason why (readers) should be against mail-order brides, which is because it's racist, colonialistic exploitation."

The pop-culture expert describes the catalogue as "emptying the politics out of the problem" in order to be funny, and losing any potential message in the process. Although Sullivan says she appreciates the sense of humour in "you-go-girl feminism," she doesn't consider this a successful example of using parody to turn the tables on men.

Debbie Ronca, a Jane subscriber who met her fiance over the Internet, agrees. Calling the piece sexist, rude and obnoxious, the 35-year-old says she was especially offended by the magazine's comparison of personal ads to the mail-order business— parody or not.

"I'm not thrilled with the way it was packaged,'' she says. "They're trying to be satirical or funny but they just come across as mean.''