Where Are the Weird Dogs, Indeed?

Prompt No. 63: Cool vs. Anti-Cool, Acquisitions, and Anna Wintour

I own a pair of Tolix chairs because of Anna Wintour.

Okay, that’s a slightly inaccurate statement, but the truth is less compelling — stay with me. I actually purchased the galvanized steel classics for my 400 square-foot apartment long before I stumbled across a photo of the editor awkwardly folded over one like a dead crane. They were sturdy, stackable, and impossible for my cat to scratch. But I have held onto the aging icons even when they hadn’t an obvious home in my home, in part, because of Wintour. At one point her stamp of approval mattered to me. Before she supported racist designers or barely contained her disdain for Chinese journalists — before she admittedly overlooked the concerns of Black staff at Vogue — Wintour seemed cool… Or maybe she just looked the part. Throughout the 1990s, Wintour popped up at chic events in sleek slip dresses with a smirk, often with the inestimable André Leon Talley at her side. Although her style no longer held any interest decades later, she still possessed the cultural capital to influence what I considered worthy of owning. Hence the chairs collecting dust in my cellar. That said, cultural capital is fickle. Wintour has since lost all value to me, but I know my appraisal means nothing. The woman remains inordinately powerful, and how she views American fashion is the future of American fashion. So when Vogue announced last year that the outlet’s digital editor, Chloe Malle, would succeed Wintour, the news rang like a death knell. Malle is the epitome of privilege and, historically, makes people boring as hell. Don’t take my word for it, though. Last week’s New York Times sit down with the editors confirmed it. As Wintour slumped over her old Tolix throughout the dreadfully dull ordeal, it was clear fashion’s most powerful voice had completely conceded cool. And that’s neither Wintour or Malle’s problem. It’s ours. Thankfully, it’s one we can solve.