The Making of Mia (37 page)

‘Lucy says that the staff have been whispering about
Gloss
folding and people being made redundant,’ Madeline added. ‘However, Lucy’s certain she’ll be offered a position on one of
the other Garnet magazines. Apparently Joshua is still so sucked in by Lucy’s simpering routine that he told her he “values
her editorship skills”. Really, he hasn’t a clue that she’s actually employed by us to ruin
Gloss
from the inside.’

‘Good,’ Jo said with satisfaction. ‘But until
Gloss
goes under, Lucy is going to have to keep on pretending – we’ve worked too hard for anything to go wrong now.’

When Jo – or Mia, as she’d been known at the time – had decided to launch her own magazine to rival
Gloss
, the first person she’d phoned was Madeline. Over a lunch of chicken Caesar salad and mineral water at Soho House, Madeline
had agreed to partner up with Jo and form Platinum Publishing, a consumer magazine publishing company that would specialise
in high-end magazines as well as web properties that complimented their brands. They funded the company with the hush money
they had received from Joshua Garnet, and within a fortnight they’d rented a large office in Soho and employed a receptionist,
a research team, an art director and an advertising sales team. For six months both Jo and Madeline
worked fourteen-hour days and planned every aspect of their first launch.
Cerise
magazine, they had decided, was going to be aimed at women who were sick of being dictated to by shiny women’s magazines
like
Gloss
and
Cosmopolitan
, and even though the ideology behind
Cerise
defied convention, Jo knew that the magazine would be an instant success.

When Jo was growing up, she had always wanted to tell magazine readers which clothes from the catwalk would be the season’s
hottest trends. Now, however, the internet had changed all that, and even though magazines could still dictate, their messages
were falling on deaf ears because women preferred the instant accessibility of the internet to magazines that were out of
date because they only came out monthly. Jo’s research team discovered that women now visited and created websites that helped
them carve out and define their individuality, and in doing so they stopped buying the magazines that said, rather sinisterly,
that if they didn’t wear tulip skirts or Sienna Miller-style leggings they were committing fashion death. Jo saw that
Cerise
would never work if they preached to women in the same way that
Gloss
did, and instead she focused on the pick-and-mix ethos of the blogs she was reading; the online diaries where women could
publish what they really liked, rather than pretending to rate the same fashion and trends that magazines told them to buy.

Jo watched the internet intently during those six months of planning. For so many years she had viewed magazines as her knowledgeable
older sisters, and when Jo had been at school, magazines were her best friends – they were what she turned to when she was
feeling insecure and believed she didn’t know any of the answers to life. Even though the magazines couldn’t help her lose
weight or make friends, Jo drew comfort from knowing the best way to apply liquid eyeliner, or who the hottest new Brazilian
model was. What Jo didn’t realise was that the magazine makers weren’t
trying to make Jo feel better about herself, but were in fact hoping they would make her feel worse by subliminally saying,
‘You don’t know this, but we do, so therefore you need us because you’re as worthless as you think you are.’ Now she was older,
Jo believed that women’s magazines sold unhappiness and insecurity, and what she wanted to do with
Cerise
was sell happiness instead. Jo didn’t want people to feel dissatisfied with their lives when they were reading
Cerise
, and she hoped they would feel normal for not fitting into a magazine-produced stereotype of who they had to be, what they
had to buy and say, and – most importantly – what they had to look like.

As Jo had planned the launch of the magazine and accompanying website, she’d realised that not only was she breaking down
the messages that all other women’s magazines were sending out, but she was also destroying the media-produced stereotype
of what a beautiful girl should look like. With hindsight, Jo now realised that she too had subscribed to the magazine ideal
of beauty, and that it was magazines she had turned to when she was planning her cosmetic surgery. Rather than just envying
the pretty girls in the magazines like so many other readers had, Jo had taken it to an extreme and bought herself that near-unobtainable
beauty so she could have a career in the media. Jo felt ashamed as she realised how shallow she had been, and she set about
trying to transform herself back into a version of the girl she had been before she had surgery.

The first step was to rid herself of her golden hair and to become a brunette again. When the hairdresser at Charles Worthington
had removed the towel from around her head, Jo’s eyes had filled with tears on seeing her newly dyed hair. With shiny mahogany
hair, Jo looked like the slimmer, prettier version of the lumpy girl she could remember being as a teenager, and as she admired
herself a quiet rage formed
within her, spurring her on to make sure that
Cerise
was the best women’s magazine in the UK. Jo knew she couldn’t blame
Gloss
entirely for the media-construct of women – where all girls were supposed to be beautiful, slender and highly sexualised
– but she did know that her magazine would never be held responsible for making any girl who was slightly plump or plain feel
bad about themselves again. But as well as making her readers feel more secure about who they really were, she also wanted
to entertain them and make them laugh, and she formulated
Cerise
to be everything she had ever wanted in a magazine herself. When Jo and Madeline looked at their first dummy copy before
sending it to the printers they both agreed that they had never seen anything like it. They both thought it was the best magazine
in the world.

The first issue launched as a package of showbiz gossip, paparazzi photographs that showed what celebrities really looked
like without airbrushing, and real-life stories that all women could identify with. Instead of employing a fashion director
who was a slave to what men wanted women to look like, Jo employed a team of girls who were so hungry to be part of the industry
that they had previously set up edgy fashion websites that reported on the trends on the street. In
Cerise
, each fashion journalist described real-life fashion that they saw in London, New York and Milan, and on top of that the
magazine invited readers to email in high-resolution photographs of themselves in their favourite outfits. The mix of real
fashion combined with straight-talking reportage of the catwalk shows was a hit with women who didn’t have the money to copy
what the fashion houses were churning out, and Jo and Madeline toasted their success. They had combined citizen journalism
with celebrity glamour, and the readers were lapping it up. So much so that Lucy, who was now editing
Gloss
, reported a forty per cent drop in the
Garnet title’s circulation soon after they had launched. Jo remembered their conversation exactly.

‘Joshua is beside himself,’ Lucy had said quietly down the phone, after she’d spotted Joshua throwing a copy of
Cerise
magazine at Debbie in a rage. ‘He’s asked me to think of ideas for
Gloss
that will get our circulation rising again. What do you think I should do?’

Jo had laughed. ‘Put a stick-thin blonde on the cover and make sure that your fashion pieces are even more commanding than
usual,’ Jo had said. ‘Oh, and find a Hollywood anorexic and write an editorial saying now women aren’t sexy if they’re not
as thin as her.’

Lucy hadn’t spoken for a moment. ‘I get what you’re saying, but isn’t that a little irresponsible?’ she’d asked. ‘I mean,
Gloss
still has some readers, and I’d hate to think of them starving themselves because we’ve declared size zero the coolest body
shape for the year.’

Jo’s smile had frozen. She had been so intent on destroying
Gloss
that she hadn’t thought about their readers. ‘You’re right,’ she’d said seriously. ‘Why don’t you take the most extreme outfits
you can find from the catwalk and tell your readers that they won’t look sexy unless they copy them completely? You know,
full-blown Gautier sailor costumes for the office, and Betty Jackson gothic ball-gowns for nights out on the pull. Rather
than looking fashionable your readers will just look silly instead. And hopefully they won’t resort to throwing up to lose
a drastic amount of weight.’

Lucy had chuckled down the phone. ‘You got it,’ she’d said, and the next issue of
Gloss
followed Jo’s advice perfectly. Circulation dropped even more, and as a result Joshua closed
Cycling Monthly
and spent their budget on redesigning and marketing
Gloss
. When he did so, circulation fell further, and it was then that Jo had realised that it was only a matter of time before
Gloss
went out of business.

*

‘Joshua
has
to be shutting
Gloss
down, he’s run out of options,’ Madeline said, as she crossed her legs and leant back in her chair. Her white Dior sandals,
crusted with crystals, sparkled in the sunlight that beamed into the office. ‘I’ve thought about what else he can do to salvage
Gloss
’s brand, but really, nothing can be done. It’s dead, and he knows it.’

Jo smirked, and as she did Madeline was struck by how fresh-faced Jo was, despite working to deadline the night before. Her
simple navy blue Chloé wrap-dress showed off her size-twelve curves, and the diamond solitaire necklace that hung from her
neck nestled on top of her lightly tanned cleavage. Despite everything Jo had gone through in the last year she still looked
stunning, and as she thought about
Gloss
shutting down her cheeks flushed excitedly. ‘I bet it hurts for him to realise it, too. Not only have we put one of Joshua’s
most successful magazines out of business, we have also done it with his money. That’s got to be painful.’

Madeline smiled. ‘He deserves it.’ She sighed and looked out of the window that overlooked Soho Square. Outside people were
enjoying the early summer sunshine on the grass, and Madeline itched to be at home with her baby. The sooner
Gloss
folded, the sooner they could employ Lucy to run
Cerise
, meaning that she could take the maternity leave she desperately craved. Madeline tried to stop thinking about her son and
work, and changed the subject. ‘Now, while we’re waiting, tell me what you thought about Jake. He certainly liked you – he’s
already sent me an email asking if you’d appreciate a phone call.’

Jo recalled the weekend before, when she had attended one of Madeline’s dinner parties. Although the food had been excellent
– Madeline had asked her local Thai to deliver as she didn’t have time to cook – Jo had been set up with Jake Pritchard, an
investment banker who kept Porsches and
visited New York for long weekends. The moment Jo had seen him she’d admired his choppy light-brown hair, his impressive broad
shoulders, and the way his eyes twinkled when he gave her an easy, relaxed smile, but there was something about Jake that
just didn’t feel right. There was no spark.

‘Jake was lovely,’ Jo began slowly, hoping she wouldn’t hurt Madeline’s feelings, ‘but …’

Madeline raised her eyebrows. Jake was one of many men she had set Jo up with, and yet again, he didn’t fit the bill despite
being one of London’s most eligible bachelors and clearly having a thing for Jo.

‘But he’s not right for you,’ Madeline concluded with an exasperated sigh. ‘You do know you’re going to have to get over this
mythical William fellow at some point, don’t you?’ she asked gently, and at the mention of William’s name she saw Jo flinch.

‘There’s nothing to get over,’ Jo said lightly, forcing a smile. ‘William Denning and I were never “together”, and to be honest
…’ Jo trailed off when she saw that Lucy had appeared in the doorway to her office, and in a flash all thoughts of William
disappeared. Lucy stared at Jo and Madeline with a grave expression, and for a moment neither partners of Platinum Publishing
felt as though they could breathe. Lucy clearly had news, but it didn’t look good.

‘Well?’ Madeline whispered, as Lucy looked down at the floor. Jo looked from one woman to the other, and before she could
stop herself she felt her heart sink.
Gloss
hadn’t folded, she thought. Somehow Joshua had weaseled out of the inevitable yet again and had managed to keep it going.
Just as Jo felt disappointment run through her body she saw a tiny flicker of laughter appear at the corners of Lucy’s mouth,
and in that moment she knew they had done it.

‘It’s over, isn’t it?’ Jo yelled, and despite hoping to keep her face poker-straight for as long as possible, Lucy gave her
the biggest grin Jo had ever received and nodded happily. Jo let out a massive whoop, and she leapt over to Madeline and flung
her arms around her. ‘We’ve shut down
Gloss
! We’ve shut down
Gloss
!’ The three women hugged each other and started bouncing around the office, and as they congratulated each other the editorial
team watched them through the glass divider that separated Jo’s office from the open-plan editorial floor. All three were
crying tears of happiness, and even though nobody else knew what they had done, the industry press would soon be reporting
how
Gloss
had shut down after experiencing a ninety-three per cent drop in circulation.

‘Where the fuck are you? You’re late,’ Lucy barked down the phone to Jo two weeks later. ‘This is our celebration dinner and
we can’t order until you get here, so jump in a fucking cab and get here now.’

Jo tried not to laugh and turned off her computer. In the two weeks since Garnet Publishing had announced that
Gloss
would be folding, Jo had pushed herself even harder to make sure that
Cerise
would win Magazine of the Year at the UK Magazine Awards. Although there was no doubt in her mind that the magazine would
definitely be shortlisted, Jo knew that if she made the next issue even better
Cerise
’s circulation would go through the roof, setting a record in women’s magazines and making Platinum Publishing’s turnover
the largest in the country. Jo wanted it all, and she wasn’t scared of working hard to get it.