ANNA WINTOUR: HOW SHE TURNED VOGUE INTO A BUSINESS OF FAVORS
Anna Wintour turned Vogue into a web of favors and influence. More than fashion, it offered alliances and demanded loyalty, making the magazine her main currency of power.
The figure of Anna Wintour stands as an untouchable monument within the unstable pantheon of fashion. She is not merely an editor; she is the architect of an empire, a figure whose influence reaches far beyond the glossy pages of Vogue to shape culture, politics, and the star system of recent decades. The woman behind the inscrutable sunglasses and the flawless bob has not just chronicled fashion—she has dictated its rules with an iron fist wrapped in velvet. She transformed Vogue into the commercial epicenter of the industry, a place where art merges with capitalism and ambition is not only welcomed but celebrated. Her trajectory is a case study in how power is accumulated, exercised, and, above all, rendered immune to criticism.
Wintour’s revolution began in 1988 with a cover that puzzled many. Far from the usual close-ups of made-up faces and extravagant jewelry, it featured a model wearing a haute couture jacket paired with jeans. It was a declaration of intent—a manifesto proclaiming the death of elitism and the birth of a new era. With this move, she didn’t just merge high fashion with streetwear; she also revealed a commercial instinct without precedent. She understood that fashion needed to reflect the modern woman: professional, busy, and genuinely interested in business and money. Once described as an “internal consultant for outdated or struggling magazines,” she knew that for Vogue to survive, it had to be more than a fashion catalog—it had to be a mirror of its time, even if that mirror reflected something uncomfortable or unexpected.
Her vision—often described as “autocratic”—transformed Vogue from a fashion magazine into a cultural barometer. She pioneered putting celebrities on the cover, a move that, while obvious today, was radical at the time. Madonna, the first of many, marked the beginning of a fusion between fashion and entertainment that would become her trademark. LeBron James, Puff Daddy, Kim Kardashian, and Kanye West—all passed through her editorial filter. Initially, these choices were controversial; LeBron’s 2008 cover sparked debates about racial stereotypes, and Kim Kardashian’s 2014 appearance was seen as pandering to mass entertainment. Yet Wintour always justified her decisions by claiming that her job is to portray those who shape culture. Time has proven that her strategy was no whim, but rather a way to keep Vogue relevant in a rapidly evolving media landscape.
Wintour’s talent for spotting and nurturing talent is legendary. She has elevated countless designers, from Marc Jacobs to John Galliano, and built a loyal network of collaborators—from photographers like Annie Leibovitz and Steven Meisel to editors. But her loyalty is not unconditional. The cold and calculating “Nuclear Wintour,” as she was dubbed, has shown she’s capable of discarding those who no longer serve her—evident in the accounts of former assistants that inspired the novel and film The Devil Wears Prada. Far from harming her reputation, the book immortalized her as the formidable Miranda Priestly and catapulted her to new levels of cultural notoriety. Her icy and enigmatic personality, coupled with her undeniable power, became a public fascination—fueling a myth she herself has skillfully exploited. Attending the film’s premiere in Prada, Wintour demonstrated her shrewdness: she embraced the myth, disarming any critique with an enigmatic smile.
Wintour’s power is not confined to the pages of Vogue. Her influence reaches into museums, politics, and society at large. Her role as a trustee of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York transformed the Met Gala from a low-profile charity event into the pinnacle of the social calendar—a media circus and major fundraiser that gave the Costume Institute (renamed in her honor) a new level of visibility. She has also used her platform to weave political alliances, raising funds for Democratic candidates such as Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Her ability to rehabilitate public figures—as she did with Clinton during the Lewinsky scandal—proves that her currency isn’t just money, but favors and prestige.
The “uncancellable woman” of fashion has shown time and again that she knows how to navigate the turbulent waters of controversy. She steered the magazine to embrace the Black Lives Matter movement and stopped using fur when public opinion demanded it. Is she a weather vane, or simply a master strategist? Her pragmatism, her ability to anticipate and reflect cultural shifts, has kept her at the top. She isn’t afraid to change course if it ensures the survival and relevance of her empire.
Though she recently took a “tentative step aside,” leaving her role as Editor-in-Chief of the U.S. edition, her power has not waned. Now, as Global Chief Content Officer, she oversees all of Condé Nast’s publications, reaffirming that no one can—or dares to—succeed her on the throne she built. The woman who became a “high priestess of our time” has effectively erased the traditional idea of an editor-in-chief, ensuring that even in her absence, her shadow remains the one that defines Vogue. Her legacy is a reminder that in the world of fashion, art, culture, and commerce are inextricably intertwined—and no one has mastered that complex web more skillfully than she has.