Forgive me if I'm rehashing an old issue here, but as someone who flits between the new fangled nature of digital and the dinosaur that is print I still find it fascinating to chart its ascension and decline. If this sounds like I'm describing it as happening in waves, it's because I think it does. I remember a year ago or so, just as I was beginning to spread my wings in the fashion world [helpfully] you couldn't swing a returns bag in a fashion cupboard without somebody shaking their head and muttering that the end of Editorial was nigh.
What exactly you're supposed to do with that information, I have no idea. After having worked unpaid for the best part of a year I wasn't about to just pick up my packed lunch and leave, was I? Being at the bottom of the ladder, there didn't seem to be any indication of an industry dying- Editors were still claiming outrageous expenses, logistics were still sending urgent couriers to collect dresses from around the corner, and brands were still paying silly money for a half page advert. In any case, I never concerned myself with the the potential fall of an entire industry- no one would have told me anyway! [A friend of mine recently told me something that a wise woman once told her- "If you're at the bottom you should only worry this much, when you've moved up bit you should worry this much more. Only when you're at the top do you need to worry this much." Sage advice, if ever I've heard it.]
A year after the original panic though, here we are: Vogue is still in print, along with a whole host of questionable titles, and the printed word still seems to hold some cache- although the immediacy and instantaneousness that online offers is clearly a big positive, I feel quite cheered to know that, in all likelihood, for the foreseeable future you will be able to curl up with a magazine on the sofa, stock up on your favourites at the airport and continue to enjoy the permanence of glossy pages between your fingers. I don't know about you, but I didn't even have Wi-Fi at home until about 2011, simply for the reason that neither my mum nor I knew how to use t'internet box so perhaps a physical publication gives me a sense of security, in a way.
Just as Carrie Bradshaw, who chases her journalistic dreams till she reaches a mighty $2 a word at Vogue magazine, I believe that, for now, the printed written word still holds more value than those that appear on a screen*. Yes, you might reach double the number of people in a fraction of the time by publishing online but you don't have the weight of a publication behind you- the endorsement of an established magazine that has put its faith in you to enchant, enthral and endear yourself to its readers. Then again, you can write whatever the hell you want, case in point right here, and some might say that's the most precious thing of all.
*I appreciate the irony of writing this in an online blog, largely unseen by anyone and entirely without backing or recommendation. Another perk of self publishing, you can contradict yourself as many times as you like.
