DÉPÊCHE MODE

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Viscose Journal calls itself “a journal for fashion criticism” which sounds like a simple enough—and niche enough—premise for a magazine. Founded by Jeppe Ugelvig in Copenhagen and New York in 2021, Viscose has quickly become a vital touchpoint in the fashion world. And it has evolved into something far more complicated than what it still calls itself.

In many ways, Ugelvig and his team have created a magazine that is a pure distillation of what a magazine can be. Because every issue of the publication is different—in form and shape and style. In other words, this is a magazine without a literal template.

The first issue was called a “bagazine” and came in the form of a crocodile skin handbag. Another issue featured a garment label. And the current issue comes with a cover in the form of a cut-out of a perfume box.

The magazine feels like “an ongoing thought process,” not just with the subject of fashion but with the idea of making a magazine itself. And in this sense, it is a mirror not just to the disciplined anarchy of the fashion industry but also into the making of an independent magazine in the 21st century. And that means thinking about the brand, about events, about audience, about the future as a media hub. And that’s a lot of thinking.

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This episode is made possible by our friends at Freeport Press.

A production of Magazeum LLC ©2021–2025

THE GOING WAS VERY, VERY GOOD

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I’m a writer and the former deputy editor of Vanity Fair. Now if you know anything about me, which statistically you don't, unless—shameless plug—you read my memoir, Dilettante, about my time at Vanity Fair and the golden age of the magazine business. Which, statistically, you didn’t.

The only reason I have a career at all is because of today’s guest on Print Is Dead (Long Live Print). He hired me in the mid-nineties to be his assistant. Or as he likes to say, “rescued me off the scrap heap” and then, like gum on the bottom of his shoe, he could never seem to get rid of me.

I’m talking of course about Graydon Carter, former editor of Vanity Fair, Spy, The New York Observer, and now co-editor and co-founder of Air Mail.

He’s here to talk about his memoir When the Going was Good—a title that, with signature understatement, suggests things were once better than they are now, which feels correct. But his book isn’t just about magazines. It’s about a time when media was glamorous and powerful and vital. When New York was still New York. When the world he had a hand in shaping still existed.

It’s not nostalgia, it’s a public service, because Graydon didn’t just edit and create magazines. He built worlds. He predicted the cultural weather. He made journalism feel essential, and more importantly, cool.

I was lucky enough to work for him at Vanity Fair for almost 25 years, back when magazines mattered, when people still returned phone calls, and parties had seating charts instead of hashtags, when the media wasn’t just people making videos about sandwiches, and when style wasn’t a “brand CoLab,” and when you could still smoke indoors without a visit from HR.

You know what? Hold on one second. “Hey! You kids get off my lawn!”

Sorry. Graydon began as my boss, but quickly became a mentor, then a friend, and it’s a friendship that continues to this day. So enjoy this conversation with Graydon Carter as he looks back on the chaos, the glamour, and the thrill of a better time. Back when, yes, the going was very, very good.

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This episode is made possible by our friends at Commercial Type and Freeport Press.

A production of Magazeum LLC ©2021–2025

NOTED. (RELENTLESSLY)

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When a company publishes a magazine, or at least an “editorial” product, for whatever reason, it is called custom publishing. I have a long editorial background in custom. And custom has a surprisingly long history itself.

How long?

John Deere started publishing The Furrow in 1895. The Michelin Star started as a form of custom content: what better way to sell tires to monied Parisians than by enticing them to take a drive to the countryside to try a great restaurant?

Amex Publishing famously published Travel + Leisure among other titles for decades. That in-flight magazine you once enjoyed on your flight overseas? That, too, is custom publishing.

Now, after some down years, custom publishing is leaning waaaaay into print again. Henrybuilt is an industry leader in designing and constructing well-built products and furnishings for the home. Henrybuilt is not, however, a company that you would think is screaming for a magazine.

But the qualities that make a great magazine—attention to detail and craft, the curation of ideas, hard work—are the very qualities that have made Untapped, a “design journal that looks back to look forward.”

Led by editor-in-chief Tiffany Jow, Untapped is a smart, well-designed magazine that avoids the pitfalls of most design journals in being free of jargon and thus accessible.

With an enviable level of editorial freedom, Jow has created an editorial product that richly explores livable spaces and champions “ideas-driven work.” The result is a growing media entity across platforms independent of Henrybuilt while hewing closely to its brand. It’s good stuff.

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This episode is made possible by our friends at Freeport Press.

A production of Magazeum LLC ©2021–2025

THE SYSTEM WORKS

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When I decided to launch this podcast back in 2019, it didn’t take me long to realize that I didn’t want to do it alone. The first person I called? Today’s guest, Debra Bishop.

I’ve known Deb a little bit for a long time, but well enough to know her insight, humor, and world view would elevate every conversation we’d have. But also, and more importantly, she is without question one of the most consequential editorial designers working today.

Deb has helped define the visual and structural DNA of some of the most iconic media brands of the last few decades, from Martha Stewart’s Blueprint, to More Magazine, and now, to The New York Times for Kids.

What sets Deb apart is not just her eye, but her mind. She’s a master of creating editorial systems—cohesive, flexible frameworks that hold entire magazines together, giving them both structure and soul. Her designs guide readers effortlessly, creating rhythm, clarity, and a sense of trust.

Deb never overdesigns or distracts—she amplifies. Her layouts are confident, elegant, quietly powerful, and often these days, lots of fun. And as a leader and mentor, she’s shaped not just magazines but careers. She’s helped raise the standard for what editorial design can be, and what a creative partnership should look like.

Deb makes everything better: the work, the process, the people around her. Her influence is everywhere—including on this podcast—and I feel incredibly lucky to call her a friend and colleague.

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This episode is made possible by our friends at Commercial Type and Freeport Press.

A production of Magazeum LLC ©2021–2025

A BETTER-BUILT MAGAZINE

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When a company publishes a magazine, or at least an “editorial” product, for whatever reason, it is called custom publishing. I have a long editorial background in custom. And custom has a surprisingly long history itself.

How long?

John Deere started publishing The Furrow in 1895. The Michelin Star started as a form of custom content: what better way to sell tires to monied Parisians than by enticing them to take a drive to the countryside to try a great restaurant?

Amex Publishing famously published Travel + Leisure among other titles for decades. That in-flight magazine you once enjoyed on your flight overseas? That, too, is custom publishing.

Now, after some down years, custom publishing is leaning waaaaay into print again. Henrybuilt is an industry leader in designing and constructing well-built products and furnishings for the home. Henrybuilt is not, however, a company that you would think is screaming for a magazine.

But the qualities that make a great magazine—attention to detail and craft, the curation of ideas, hard work—are the very qualities that have made Untapped, a “design journal that looks back to look forward.”

Led by editor-in-chief Tiffany Jow, Untapped is a smart, well-designed magazine that avoids the pitfalls of most design journals in being free of jargon and thus accessible.

With an enviable level of editorial freedom, Jow has created an editorial product that richly explores livable spaces and champions “ideas-driven work.” The result is a growing media entity across platforms independent of Henrybuilt while hewing closely to its brand. It’s good stuff.

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This episode is made possible by our friends at Freeport Press.

A production of Magazeum LLC ©2021–2025

THE PERSON BEHIND THE PERSON BEHIND THE CAMERA

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Close your eyes and picture a classic Rolling Stone cover. Dozens probably come to mind—portraits of music legends, movie stars, political icons, cultural rebels. Bruce. Bono. Madonna.

These images are etched into our cultural memory as more than mere photographs. They’re statements.

But when we remember the cover, and maybe even the photographer, how often do we remember the person who made it all happen? The one who dreamed up the concept, found the right photographer, navigated the logistics, managed the personalities, and ultimately brought that unforgettable image to life?

It’s the photo editor. But who thinks about the photo editor?

Photo editors are essential—especially at a magazine like Rolling Stone—for decades its covers defined our visual culture. Behind every iconic cover is a photo director making hundreds of invisible decisions under pressure and facing tight budgets, unpredictable talent, and shifting editorial winds. They’re the ones keeping shoots on track when the talent shows up two hours late. They’re the ones coaxing photographers into greatness—the person behind the people behind the camera.

Photo editors are expected to be tastemakers, producers, diplomats, caterers, and art directors all at once. Although their work is everywhere, their names are not. They’re under-thanked. Underseen. Too often unknown. This is the paradox of their work: When a shoot goes well, it looks effortless. When it doesn’t, they take the bullet.

Laurie Kratochvil, Rolling Stone’s visionary director of photography from 1982 to 1994, knows this all too well.

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This episode is made possible by our friends at Commercial Type and Freeport Press.

A production of Magazeum LLC ©2021–2025

IT’S LE MONDE’S WORLD AND WE’RE JUST LIVING IN IT

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Name a major newspaper—anywhere in the world—and you will find a magazine. Or two. Or three. The New York Times is the obvious example of this. The Times of London is another obvious example. And now more and more legacy newspapers from around the world are publishing their magazines in English.

La Repubblica in Italy publishes D. And now France’s venerable Le Monde is out with M International, a glossy biannual that distills their weekly M magazine for an English-speaking audience.

Long called “the newspaper of reference” in France, Le Monde occupies an oversized space in the French media. When the Olympics returned to Paris, Le Monde decided to create an english version of their newspaper for the web. Then they decided to create the magazine—in English—something that not just added an extra piece of land to their media ecosystem, but one that pleased their advertisers as well.

We spoke to Louis Dreyfus, the CEO of Le Monde about the business case for English, how the magazines attract new readers to the newspaper, the power of print, and how AI is one of the reasons Le Monde can create in english in the first place.

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This episode is made possible by our friends at Freeport Press.

A production of Magazeum LLC ©2021–2025

TWIST & SHOUT

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 Philip Burke’s portraits don’t just look like the people he paints—they actually vibrate. Just look at them. With wild color, skewed proportions, and emotional clarity, his illustrations have lit up the pages of Rolling Stone, The New Yorker, Time, and Vanity Fair, capturing cultural icons in a way that feels both chaotic and essential.

But behind that explosive style is a steady, spiritual core.

Burke begins each day by chanting. It sounds like this: “Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō. Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō. Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō.” It means “devotion to the mystic law of cause and effect through sound,” he says. The chant grounds Burke and opens a space where true connection—on the canvas and in life—can happen.

This daily practice is more than a ritual—it’s a source of creative clarity.

Burke’s rise was rapid and raw. Emerging from Buffalo, New York, he made his name in the punk-charged art scene of the 1980s with a fearless, high-voltage style. But it was through his spiritual journey that the work began to transform—less about distortion for shock, and more about essence, empathy, and insight. Less funhouse mirror, more human.

Our Anne Quito spoke to Burke about how Buddhism reshaped his approach to portraiture, what it means to truly see a subject, and why staying present—both on the page and in life—is his greatest creative discipline.

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This episode is made possible by our friends at Commercial Type and Freeport Press.

A production of Magazeum LLC ©2021–2025