Anna Wintour Embraces a New Era at Vogue

And when you saw it later, how’d you feel?

Well, that’s something, going back to what we were talking about before: I think everybody uses fashion in different ways, and, obviously, that was something that was important to her.

Journalism is in your blood, and you found your place in it, God knows. The most interesting part of any biography for me is not the later big triumphs, as interesting as they can be, but how somebody becomes themselves—in a sense, how they invent themselves. When you think about how you became the Anna Wintour that at least the public knows and understands—where do you think that all came from?

I think I was so lucky, as we were discussing before, in my upbringing and meeting all these people and knowing that I wanted to work in journalism, in media, but being very aware of my father’s success in what was then called Fleet Street, and not wanting to be part of his world, trying to make my own mark. Filling out all those stupid school forms that you have to do, I asked my dad, “Well, what shall I fill in when you write what you want to be?” This is a true story. He said, “Well, you just write you want to be editor of Vogue.”

No! At what age?

I don’t know, thirteen? So I wrote that in, and then I felt confident: yes, this was something that I could work toward. And the other thing is, my first jobs working in London, there’s no money, there’s no staff, there’s no teams. You have to learn how to do everything.

What was the job?

My first job, I worked at Harpers & Queen. I was in the fashion department. You had to cover the market, go on shoots, write the captions, lay it out, go to events, go to the shows. The original sort of multitasker.

Do you know how to operate a needle and thread?

I was never any good at that. Never.

No hemming for you.

Yes, awful. When I came to the States [in 1975, to become a junior fashion editor at Harper’s Bazaar], there was a shoe editor and an underwear editor and a fabric editor—it was so siloed. I felt very confident, because I sort of knew how to do everything.

But, wait, you determined your final—not final destination as it turns out—at that early age? “I’m going to be the editor of Vogue.”

Well, it was a goal to work toward. And obviously there were many ups and downs along the way, including getting fired from Harper’s Bazaar, because I was told I would never understand the American market.

Tell me about the firing.

It was very brief. But I think everyone should be fired once. You’ve probably never been fired, David.

I’ve only really had two jobs. So far, so good.

But it helps you get everything into proportion. I picked myself up, and eventually landed at New York magazine, where my multitasking really came into full use, because there wasn’t anyone there that understood anything that I was doing. I was very lucky to work for Ed Kosner, who was a wonderful editor and gave me free reign. And that’s where I caught the eye of Alexander Liberman—the editorial director of Condé Nast—and I moved over to American Vogue.

I hope this is not a sexist question, but maybe we could ask it of men, too. I hope we do. How did you develop your look and why?

Well, for my hair, it was always pretty much this way.

It’s not a Louise Brooks influence or anything?

No. Some British hairdresser decided they were going to experiment on me, and they cut it into three layers, and it was honestly the worst haircut you’ve ever seen in your entire life. I think I wore a hat for a year, and then after that I resolved not to cut my hair except this way ever again. And I mean the glasses are just because I’m very shortsighted, but they also helped me get through situations.

When you’re bored to death?

Well, you said that, not me.

Another thing that you’re known for is your ability to do about three thousand things in a given day. When do you get up?

Well, I get up really early, 4:30 or five, and I read, online, the papers—all the English papers and the Times. And then I have a lovely walk through Washington Square Park where you see a very interesting slice of life. And I go to the gym. And then I run back.

You were a runner when you were a kid, right?

Yeah, I was.

A good one.

My grandfather was a very, very fast runner. He ran for Harvard, and I was always being encouraged to run, to go into serious training, but I didn’t take that path. It was the sixties in London. So I took another path, many other paths.

And then I go to the office, and then the day starts.

You’ve said you’d never write a book about your life. Why is that?

Never. I don’t think I’m that interesting, and—

O.K., that’s where you’re wrong.

Thank you, David. But I really—it’s not a story I want to tell.