What Happens When Legacy Publications Lose Influence?

Once upon two decades ago, millions of young women watched The Devil Wears Prada and thought I want to be her—a fashion icon, tastemaker, and cultural critic none other than the real life version of Runway's Miranda Priestly, Anna Wintour, Editor-in-Chief of Vogue.

The allure was never just about fashion, but the power it had the potential to wield––the influence you could carry as a woman who decided what was in or out, relevant or disposable, and even if magazines were'nt your niche, curating culture seemed like the best job imaginable. But it’s 2025, and while new issues continue to hit the stands, when was the last time a glossy magazine shaped your sense of self?

Maybe that’s one reason Anna Wintour stepped down last week. Maybe she saw the shift before it fully arrived and before articles like this one became mainstream. As Glossy put it,“the fashion media landscape has changed since Vogue’s print-dominant heyday...brands are contending with shrinking referral traffic, ad dollars are shifting to search and social, the creator economy is booming, and generative AI technology is curating fashion and summarizing content in search engines”: a phenomenon that calls into question whether slow reading for pleasure will take prevalence over the quicker pace of content consumption ever again.

As Recho Omondi noted a few weeks ago on The Cutting Room Floor, Gen Z doesn't romanticize legacy publications the way past generations did. While Vogue was among the first to distinguish fashion from style, serve as a vessel for (white) women’s autonomy, and eventually signal strides in representation, it now survives more as a brand than a magazine—clinging to elite rituals like Vogue World and the Met Gala to distract from its behind-the-scenes struggle to earn relevance amongst younger generations.

According to Glossy, “Vogue lowered its audience rate base to its advertisers in the past month from 1.2 million to 1 million...put[ting] the publication’s circulation at a similar level of competitors like Elle and Harper’s Bazaar.”  Why? Perhaps it’s because carefully curated stories that challenge us to think deeply about style and the world are increasingly rare, crowded out by ad space — which is why independent journalism is gaining steam. The newest generation of would-be tastemakers are turning to social media for style advice from their favorite influencers, and to Substack for sharp takes on the latest 'core' on TikTok. And if they’re still reaching for print, it’s likely a zine — obscure, intimate, and valuable — prioritizing original perspectives and preserving the reading experience as a personal ritual.

It's simply not as aspirational to be a fashion editor at Condé Nast, and quite frankly, anywhere anymore. Not with chronic underpayment, mass layoffs, and shrinking creative freedom, forcing talented journalists to restrict their craft to commerce content, and sell culture rather than shape it. But regardless of whether Vogue the magazine remains to be a collectable treasure or has become cyclical trash, Vogue the brand, even as a memento, continues to be the place where anyone who wants to be someone thinks they want to be. Reputation is still a form of currency, after all.

So, what's new dream job for the media-obsessed? A consultant. As media shifts, publications are acting more like agencies. Editors are becoming strategists for brands that want cultural capital without building it themselves, hiring writers for their taste, POVs, and audiences. Wintour’s successor has more than just a magazine to manage; they’re inheriting a brand trying to stay relevant in a world where authority is decentralized and taste is crowd-sourced. The question is no longer who is the next Anna, but rather, whether fashion still needs one.