Alexandra Shulman

The outgoing editor of Vogue on the search for her successor, and how black isn’t back

The rest of The country may be stewing in the detail of Brexit but I am immersed in Vrexit, my departure from

Vogue after 25 years as editor. since I am still there until June, I am experiencing all of the roller-coaster activity around the choice of who will get my job. had I known so many people were interested in it, I might not have chosen to leave it.

I have no input in the decision – which is, of course, frustrating – but nobody is a good judge of their successor. The world is littered with people who have encouraged a mediocre person to be appointed in their wake so that they look marvellous in retrospect. At least I won’t be able to be accused of that.

everyday, there is anew rum our about who has applied, been invited to apply, been shor tlisted, inter viewed, turned it down – each bite of gossip usually directly contradicting the previous, and often imparted with the words, ‘I have this from a very good source who was, like, in the actual room.’

now that George osborne has gone rogue and joined us band of journalists as editor of the Evening Standard, the suggestions of who might take on Vogue have been many and broad. Theresa May? Tracey emin? Kate Moss? charlotte hogg? It’s a good game. But we are operating in a world where previous experience, let alone any qualifications for a job, are no longer needed. After all, look at Donald Trump, a realtor entrepreneur and reality show host in charge of the greatest political and military power in the Western world. A GREAT THING ABOUT writing books, as opposed to magazine pieces, is their longer life. The other day, I was invited to st Peter’s church in notting hill to talk about Inside Vogue, the diary I published last autumn. At one point, a member of the audience asked whether I thought there could be a mutually beneficial relationship between fashion and the church. could, for example, the tenets of ethical fashion be promoted at sunday services? After all, she pointed out, there was a captive audience. I’m not sure fashion and religion are obvious bed fellows–although it is tempting to picture cassocks designed at Alexander Mcqueen and hassocks covered in simone rocha designs. But then again, t he enthusiastic middleclass congregations that fill the pews in order to squeeze their child into the local church school would, in fact, be the ideal target for all kinds of retail messaging. A few Weeks AGO, in Paris, I visited an exhibition of Balencia ga at the Musée Bourdelle. It was a collection of the most perfect black dresses, and I look forward to seeing what the V& A will be doing with the same designer’s work, later this spring. Black is of course the urban tribe’s default colour, but I noticed on the suffolk coast last weekend that not one person wears it. And the same would be true in most of the British countryside. The black which appears sophisticated, lean, mean and chic in London, Paris and new york, looks a bits ad and bleak away from the cities. It is no surprise that the dress that Johnnie Boden said recently is his runaway bestseller is in a lively, colourful print.

Wearing black also jars with the coming of spring. It seems a bit meanspirited when nature is trying to cheer us all up. Incidentally, the fashion team at Vogue are rooting for yellow as the colour of the moment – but I’m leaving that to the daffodils. Inside Vogue: A Diary of my 100th Year, by Alexandra Shulman (£16.99, Fig Tree)

Had I known so many people were interested in my job, I might not’ve chosen to leave it