When Eras End: Anna, Jonathan, et the Art of Moving On
After 37 long years, Anna Wintour is stepping down as Editor-In-Chief at American Vogue.
A position that officially ceases to exist across all Vogues. Anna leaving is not so much of a shock et awe as it’s an “OH?! Oh.” No longer EIC but Global Director of Vogue et Chief Content Officer at Conde Nast. That Anna Wintour reign just won’t let up.
While her step down is more like a side step, it’s still a cultural shift et (semi) big deal. Anna Wintour’s Vogue is the only Vogue I’ve known in my lifetime. I could be fake prestigious et compare Anna’s celebrity-focused Vogue to the eight years Diana Vreeland helmed the brand or when Mirabella put the first Black model (shoutout Beverly Johnson) on the cover, buuuuuut I don’t wanna do that.
The archives will always be a beautiful testament to history et those editorials hold a significance of their very own, but baby, I wasn’t there. I was there, however, in September 2010 when Halle Berry became the second Black woman to front the September issue et remember all the women who asked my mom, a hairstylist, for bangs thereafter. I was there in April 2011 when Loud era Rihanna landed her first cover ever. Her flaming hair set against the sea at sunset. Fashion's first Black Ariel et all the encouragement I needed to dye my own hair red the following year. The July Style Diary that featured Cipriani Quan et TK Wonder which inspired my short experiment with faux locs.
There was a time I couldn’t go a day without seeing the Urban Bush Babes on my timeline. I wanted TK’s hair sooo bad just to wear it high et to the side the way she usually did.
We were all there in September 2018 when Beyoncé’s second September issue cover was lensed by the first Black photographer to shoot a Vogue cover (shoutout Tyler Mitchell). Her floral headpiece by Phil John Perry, et the billowy sleeves on her Gucci shirt, reminded me of her maternity shoot the year before. Which then reminded me of how the internet ate Leandra Medine uppp for her op-ed about the shoot. The ManRepeller era, what a time.
Et I was there for the lacklustre times too. Lizzo lensed by Hype Williams for October 2020, Ariana Grande’s questionable August 2019 cover. (Make no mistake, this side step was long overdue.)
In other new era news, Jonathan Anderson debuted his very first collection for Dior. A complete 180 from Kim Jones’ luxury street aesthetic. Jonathan’s Dior is playfully queer, teasingly sexy, et more attuned to the everyday wardrobe. It’s not Hedi either—it’s a Dior of today, a today where men are openly asking if Chanel, the Chanel they already buy into, will ever make menswear. A Dior for men et women alike—don’t let the Homme fool you.
Dior Spring/Summer ‘26 Menswear
Courtesy of Vogue
There’s something kind of bittersweet when an era ends. In just the past two years Dries retired, y/Project is no more, The Bay shut its doors. When the culture changes it reminds you of how much you’ve lived through like the boom in perspex heels during Raf’s Dior or when white boots trended way up during Elaine Welteroth’s Teen Vogue run. It’s weird to go through so much et still feel so young.
When some people think of Anna Wintour’s Vogue, they think about how revolutionary it was when Michaela Bercu wore jeans on the cover, which might send them on a nostalgic spiral about ACT UP protests et divas dominating the charts (RIP Whitney!), et where they were when they had Janet’s Control on replay. When I think about Anna’s Vogue or Marc’s Louis Vuitton or Wang’s Balenciaga, I’m not just recalling glossy covers et a Fall 2011 collection that played a crucial role in my womanhood (thank you Marc!). I’m timestamping who I was when I saw Rihanna crowned fashion’s forever It Girl or when Vogue handed the lens to Tyler Mitchell, et I felt another shift in the industry where Blackness was receiving its overdue chance.
Fashion history is personal history. They mark relationships, heartbreaks, new cities, new jobs, new versions of me. Like scent memories, they stick to your timeline et infuse your lore: the Dries you bought when he presented his final collection, the Sonia Rykiel stripes that reminded you of the first time you were ever laid off (RIP Sonia!).
My first big girl fashion job et my parents were so shook I was allowed to wear a crop top. I told them it’s hard to say no to Sonia.
Fashion, music, movies, et pop culture have always been my way of stitching together eras—a language for cataloging growth, grief, joy, et identity. So when an era ends, it isn’t just industry news. It’s a reminder of how far I’ve come, what I’ve lived through et who.
In the words of Dr. Seuss (or maybe his wife—remember that discovery?), I’m not crying because it’s over, but smiling because it happened. I’m not mourning the end; I can certainly let go. We’ve been theorizing about JW’s Dior for so long, the curiosity was about to kill me. But these shifts remind us, in a soft, poetic way—et no matter how superficial you might think—that we’re growing up too.
