Completists: British Vogue edition
What a 20yr collection of British Vogues means for my sense of self, my fashion knowledge and my style and taste.
My husband and I moved home 7yrs ago, from our one bed flat in Hackney, where space was at a premium, to our current house in North East London - complete with separate dining, living and kitchen. Rather naively, we projected that 30 boxes would need to be moved, along with our marble dining table, chairs, kitchenware, bedroom furniture and my wardrobe.
My husband Chris works in publishing and as we’re both adept readers, we had a lot of books. We had a lot of records. And as a Canadian (and immigrant), I had kept every important piece of admin for my eventual citizenship application. At that point, I had 13yrs of payslips, bank statements, rental agreements, employment contracts, one marriage certificate. That all needed to be packed up and moved too.
And of course one last import collection, so deeply connected and symbolic of my identity. A completist’s dream: my British Vogue collection which started the month I moved to London: September 2006.
You’d think the marble dining table or our dressers, or even the 50+ boxes we ended up having in total would have been our movers biggest pain point. Incorrect. The 15+ small boxes of Vogues, stacked at most 12 high was their biggest gripe. And much to their dismay, they needed to be stored on the top floor bedroom as we didn’t yet have bookshelves.
It’s a learned behaviour from my mother. Growing up, each month she’d buy American Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar, read them then add to ever-growing columns like a city skyline in her bedroom. She wasn’t at all precious about them, which meant I could freely go in and keep on top of my reading, observing, analysing and understanding. Which I did, each month, from about the age of 6.
It’s not just a learned behaviour mind. Stacks of piled magazines is an aesthetic choice. They’re also a talisman. They’re a system, a collection of connected societal trends, norms, expectations and standards. It’s a time vessel of the way things were, a prophecy showcasing a vision not yet realised.
Fast-forward to 2022. We hadn’t yet built bookshelves therefore the top bedroom had been a 3yr exercise in denial. If the door was shut, we didn’t need to manage the contents behind it. However in 2022 I was pregnant, and we needed to transform the room into our baby boy’s nursery. So stacks of piled magazines would need to be erected downstairs.
Organising my Vogues in July 2022
My long suffering husband that summer. Painstakingly, he moved those 15+ boxes back downstairs in 36c heat. Lest we forget I had an additional 36+ editions between the move to the present which also needed to be catalogued and included in the piles.
Piles of British Vogues collected over the years
What fun I had looking back through at the art direction, the profiles, the Noughties style, the prominent brands, the prominent models, the prices. Before me laid bare 16yrs worth of fashion economics, a connected ecosystem in which I saw the evolution and transformation not just of the industry itself, but of British Vogue too. New Editor in Chief, new brand values, new vision. Even though I had also evolved and transformed, professionally and personally, me as the consumer and the collector was the constant.
Nearly 20yrs later, Vogues are still stashed in curious places in our house. The collection, exponentially growing. “Santa won’t be able to get down your chimney” a friend remarked to my son last Christmas, referencing the 15yrs+ of Vogues piled high in our fireplace. My style, my sense of self, my monthly rituals wouldn’t be the same without my Vogues.
Tova Turkel, A Considered Curiosity founder
