A few minutes later the DJ played ‘Vogue’ by Madonna, and the party ignited. The staff, the entire Australian fashion industry and I hit the dance floor and stayed there until closing.
A week later we held a fiftieth anniversary celebration dinner in Melbourne, which was momentous for the fact that there were three Vogue Australia ex-editors present: Sheila Scotter, June McCallum and Nancy Pilcher.
Sheila, who has since sadly passed away, was well into her nineties, so to have all these impressive women in the same room was quite an achievement. Sheila certainly had all her wits about her, but she could be cantankerous to the point of nastiness, so I paired her off with the charming and patient vogue.com.au editor Damien Woolnough for the evening. John Hartigan made a surprise appearance during the night, and presented me with the de rigueur Tiffany box, containing two Elsa Peretti bangles, to commemorate my ten years as editor of Vogue.
The fiftieth anniversary issue, September 2009, was launched: four different covers, one in a limited edition gold box. A few months later I was thrilled to find that the issue was voted one of US Time magazine’s Top Ten Covers of the Year. We were nominated for Best Magazine at the annual News Limited Awards and I thought we were a shoe-in, but GQ Australia won for reasons unknown.
Well, at least the editor of Time appreciated what we’d done. As did John Hartigan, who wrote me a lovely congratulatory note. I’m not usually one to pat myself on the back. In fact, I always think I can do better. But for once, I allowed myself to accept the praise.
16
FINAL DEADLINE
In late 2011 Condé Nast International Chairman Jonathan Newhouse proposed that every Vogue editor-in-chief should travel to Tokyo to host a very special Fashion’s Night Out, a celebration that had been originally instigated in 2009 by Anna Wintour in the US. The general idea was to create a party-like atmosphere for one night in the stores, and it was designed to help stimulate retail by involving designers, models and celebrities. Each Vogue editor globally hosts the event in their respective cities, all on the same date in September.
Japan was still reeling from the devastation caused by the recent earthquake and tsunami, and to have all the editors come together to show our support, including Anna, was a landmark event for Condé Nast. Our first task was to assemble in the foyer of the Grand Hyatt hotel, and be ushered into a room to have a group photograph taken.
Seating positions had clearly been worked out beforehand, with Anna front and centre, flanked by Franca Sozzani from Vogue Italia and British Vogue’s Alexandra Shulman, and Emmanuelle Alt from Paris Vogue seated on the floor in front. I was at the back on the left, half obscured by Yolanda Sacristan from Vogue Spain. The pecking order was breathtakingly apparent. I had grown used to acknowledging the power and importance of the bigger Vogues, but the emergence of markets such as China, India and Turkey and their commonsense editors had helped to make me feel a little less marginalised.
I had no dealings with Anna Wintour over the years, and on the few occasions we were introduced her sense of froideur was palpable. The deference she commands from people is astonishing to watch. There appears to exist some kind of psychological condition that causes seemingly sane and successful adults to prostrate themselves in her presence. It’s not just respect—it’s something else. People actually want to be scared witless of her, so she obliges. It’s very clever when you think about it. Many times over the years, people, after they had met me would say, ‘Oh gee, you’re so nice and normal’, often I think with a tinge of disappointment, wishing I’d been just a little bit like Anna. I could never really win. I was either expected to be terrifying or snobbish. And I don’t consider myself either.
The next afternoon the editors were put into pairs (apart from Anna who was with her daughter Bee) and taken to visit various stores and boutiques around Tokyo. The crowd scenes that erupted around any appearance of Anna were astonishing. I was with Alex Shulman from British Vogue and if we saw that Anna was approaching the store we were in, we would beat a hasty path out to avoid being crushed in the mob. It was one of the craziest days in my career.
Earlier in the proceedings the editors and all the visiting designers, including Michael Kors, Christopher Bailey from Burberry and Peter Copping from Nina Ricci, had been herded into a multi-levelled shopping mall, and into a specially erected backstage area. A large board covered in tactical diagrams had been set up, and a Japanese organiser with limited English and a long wooden pointer explained that we were to all file into the mall, and be announced one by one to the waiting crowd. It was like a demented military operation.
I took my place in the queue as we all waited nervously to have our name called. I heard ‘Kirstie Clements, Vogue Australia’, and I emerged into the light to see a flight of dauntingly steep stairs leading to a stage, and the stony face of Anna Wintour waiting at the top, surrounded by hundreds of Japanese shoppers looking down on us all, cheering and waving. Anna launched into a speech by shouting ‘Hello Tokyo!’ and I thought, maybe I should write a book. You couldn’t make this stuff up. One minute you are in a drab office in downtown Sydney being pummelled from every direction and asked to cut costs, reduce staff, increase circulation, improve marketing, innovate artistically, stop the use of skinny models, send an anti-fur message, maintain modern morality, solve the problem of how to monetise new media, meet every client request, and work out what the weather might be next Thursday; the next you are on an international stage being cheered like a contestant in a fashion X Factor.
By early 2012 there had been another change of management, and Sandra Hook was no longer the CEO of what was now called NewsLifeMedia rather than News Magazines, a new name to better reflect the digital areas we were moving into. We all waited with some trepidation to discover who her replacement would be and the usual jostling for power began in the middle management ranks.
It’s an unfortunate side effect when a company is in transition that you really see people’s true colours, as they try to make tactical allegiances through blind panic. Given that this would be yet another boss for me, I was cautiously optimistic. Naively, I anticipated the new arrival would perhaps appreciate my insights and knowledge of the market. I thought I could add value. I knew full well vogue.com.au was looking tired and did not reflect the brand, and we were waiting for funds to be approved for a redesign. We had created and launched our first app to promote the December 2011 issue which was well-received, and there were plans in the pipeline for a second. But I wasn’t able to see these plans come to fruition. There were forces at work that would soon see me unceremoniously dumped from my position, and almost the entire Vogue Australia editorial team summarily dismissed shortly afterwards.
Being a Vogue editor is precarious, as it’s a job everybody desires to have, and most people are convinced they could do better. I recall one of my seven CEOs saying to me rather nastily: ‘Oh, you are back from Paris again are you? God, there would be thousands of people lined up around the block who would want your job.’
‘Yes, there are, I’m well aware of that,’ I replied. ‘I guess the question is: can they do it?’
It seems no editor of Vogue ever chooses to leave of their own accord, so I’m not taking it personally. It was a business decision, intended to make a statement about change. I’m sure some of the other powerful editors will break this unpleasant tradition of being suddenly fired, such as Anna Wintour, Franca Sozzani and Alex Shulman, but when you work for a magazine that is under licence with a constant stream of new managers, your luck, as it were, is eventually going to run out.
However, I do not put my career down to luck. I was mentored, guided and supported by numerous wonderful colleagues. The motivating force for me was never money, or personal glory or fame—quite the opposite. I loathe social climbers. I didn’t like the spotlight, and I’d run miles to avoid a red carpet photo. That seems so prehistoric in this new era of Instagramming your breakfast tray. Being gossiped about and sniped at by the media was wearisome
and could be hurtful, but I learned to cope. I’ve never Googled myself. That’s a definite highway to hell.
A day or so after I was fired, as if losing my livelihood and a career that I loved was not enough, the media section of The Australian decided it would be amusing to ridicule me, and the staff, suggesting all we talked about was nail polish and even questioning how we got a magazine out the door every month for thirteen years. That ugly misogyny really upset me. The Vogue team were complete professionals; we prided ourselves on that. The reason I was there all along was for the reader. I absolutely loved making a magazine, and I loved working with my team to try and improve and evolve the product every month. I was harder on myself than anybody else would be if I made a mistake, and when you’re the editor of Vogue, your slipups are very public. But throughout it all I was fortunate to share the ups and downs with the most dedicated editorial team, freelancers and clients.
Traditional publishing is under enormous pressure at present, with declining revenues and readership, and decisions are being made, understandably, to radically cut editorial staff and costs and do anything to please the advertiser. But for me, this is perilous. I still believe in the magic.
Despite all the changes I see in the industry I think that now, more than ever, it is important that your work has integrity. The mediums have changed and will change again, but honest, intelligent content is still key. In a publishing environment where revenue streams and profit margins are unclear and content costs are being slashed, the beautiful execution of interesting and original ideas remains crucial whether in print or online. It is what you are selling.
I like to hope that career success comes from wanting to do a great job, not just making short-sighted decisions in order to keep your job. I’m sure that path always exists, and it’s the one I’m going to take.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would firstly like to thank my publisher at MUP Sally Heath, who contacted me the day that followed my exit from Vogue, and who provided quiet and calm counsel throughout the writing of this book. Also thanks to Lorelei Vashti for the final edit and her encouraging words. I’d also like to thank Penelope White and Terri King at MUP for their editorial and marketing advice. For the author photography I would like to thank photographer Max Doyle, Naomi Smith for styling, Bruce Packer for hair and Linda Jeffreys for makeup.
I was fortunate to work alongside so many wonderful colleagues throughout my twenty-five years in the business who have provided inspiration, intellect and humour, all of which helped to make some sense of the madness that is the world of fashion publishing. Heartfelt thanks to Robyn Holt, Nancy Pilcher, Grant Pearce, Tory Collison, Charla Carter, Sally Bell, Karin Upton Baker, Eric Matthews, Stephen Scoble, Sandra Hook, Georgette Johnson, Paul Meany, Leigh Ann Pow, Kimberley Walsh, Naomi Smith, Natasha Inchley, Damien Woolnough, Meg Gray, Ilona Hamer, Megha Kapoor, Genevra Leek, David Clark, Alex Spring, Jo Constable, Robert Rosen and a long list of incredible talents who worked at Vogue during my tenure and from whom I in turn was privileged to learn from.
There were others in the industry who, via our professional relationships, have become invaluable friends and confidantes: Ian Clark, Anthony Kendall, Lisa Ephson, Tim Blanks, Shemi Alovic, Mary Chiew, Sally Pitt, Napoleon Perdis, Julie Otter, Michelle Wivell, Bruce Packer, Natalie Middleton, Tracy Baker and Sener Besim.
To my much loved and dear friends in the ‘Coven’: Janet Muggivan, Deborah Thomas and Lee Tulloch—we are definitely keeping each other sane. And to Jenny Power, Pascali Fox and Tim Herbert, I appreciate that you both know full well my past sartorial mistakes and have been able to move past them.
To Stephen Fitzgerald, thank you for your incredible generosity for firstly sweeping me off to Paris for inspiration, and then for providing me with two fireplaces, Sebastian, and a cosy retreat which allowed me to write all winter. Also thanks to Nicholas Cole for his advice.
To my family: my mother Gloria for her rock solid belief in me, Mourad for your unquestioning love and support during all my whims and my constant periods of absence, and to my gorgeous sons Joseph and Sam, for becoming even more amazing as you get older.
The Vogue Factor Page 19
