Daily readers of this page will know that I am a bit of a pedant when it comes to creative credits. I reckon amongst other things, attention to detail is what distinguishes the Ford Models Blog from any other rando fashion blog on Tumblr. I don’t care if it’s a “catering assistant,” if a published credit exists, then it will accompany any story posted here.
Numéro Homme is one of the few foreign language volumes biding its time on Magazine Mountain that provides an English translation of its articles at the end of the issue. Sure, the sixteen-page, two-color English section is printed on recycled paper stock rather than the glossy sort reserved for the sexier textes en français, but all the same this very French concession to internationalism is appreciated.
Wack editorials exist. They’re regularly phoned in to monthlies, quarterlies, biannuals, and supplements alike — makeweight content to fill the space between adverts. Occasionally, however in the hoary heights of Magazine Mountain, a story catches my eye and whips me into a hyperbolic froth. This morning I might not be at full-foam, but all the same I am very much feeling this GQ Style Italy story by photographer Kai Z Feng featuring Ford Men’s AJ Abualrub and Paolo Anchisi.
In the annals of magazine publishing history, the repurposing of a story for publication in a different market has about the same level of breaking news buzz as a coma in progress. Nevertheless the story that unfolds says more about Magazine Mountain and my periodical-purchasing habits than it does about the vast Condé Nast empire.
Who doesn’t love brunch takeaway? Avocado toast with spicy eggs¹ in a box. Wild mushroom kale, parsley and goat cheese omelet² wrapped in aluminum foil. Mimosa in a paper cup. Enticing as those sound, none are the takeaway I was thinking. In fact, it’s the takeaway from the brunch happening hosted this past Saturday by Ford’s Alana Zimmer and Women’s Britt Maren at The Fat Radish that I had in mind.
Strictly speaking, this page flies in the face of chronology. I am not bothered in the slighted by the fact that Monday I posted a Vogue China story from the April issue and today I am returning to the March issue. The sheer volume of editorials coursing through the agency necessitates a modicum of temporal flexibility.
If you’re already hip to Marie Claire Italia, then seeing brilliant editorials month after month by relatively unfancied photographers will come as nothing new. Truth is, the Hachette monthly under the direction of editor in chief Antonella Antonelli enjoys a cult status amongst fashion folk that is perhaps not too unlike the kind experienced by Ford’s Delfine Bafort.
Paging through Vogue China is not unlike walking into an art museum full of strangers speaking an unfamiliar language. You could be in Moscow, Athens, or Cairo for all you care, none of the writing makes any sense either.
There is an unspoken story order to magazines that places beauty before fashion. That’s eyebrow pencils before pencil skirts, just to be clear. Debate the merits of that hierarchy — ’tis better to be an aperitif or the main course — if you like, but I say any monthly worth its bath salts includes both. Vogue China does, but then again what right-thinking Condé Nast volume bearing the five letters V-O-G-U-E doesn’t? Yeah, me neither.