With her signature bob and sunglasses,Wintour has forged the image of a Chanel-coated android,with limited emotions and absolute power in the world of fashion.
Through more than 250 interviews,with people as diverse as designer Tom Ford and tennis champion Serena Williams,Odell attempts to find the flesh and blood beneath the polished exterior of the 72-year-old editor,but fails to reveal more than the book’s striking cover.
Once you accept that references to Wintour’s childhood,growing up as the daughter of respected British newspaper editor Charles Wintour and her socially conscious mother Eleanor,are less revealing than her bland breakfast order of a Starbucks latte and a blueberry muffin,Anna is an enjoyable frolic through the nosebleed section of the fashion industry.
There are mild jabs at Wintour’s inability to remember the names of underlings,and failed magazine ventures,but Odell is mostly respectful of the woman who has reigned as editor of a formidable USVogue since 1988.
“Finally,for allowing me access into her world,I am grateful to Anna,” Odell writes at the end of her author’s note. This could have been the story of the ruthless rise to the top of a privileged woman with access to a trust fund,but Odell’s gratitude prefers to emphasise the disciplined chief executive and tireless fundraiser.
The book starts with Wintour holding a meeting forVogue staff in 2016 following the election of Donald Trump as US president. During a short speech,Wintour’s voice catches:“former employee Stephanie Winston Wolkoff had a name for it:‘the crackle’.” Upon her departure the staff text one another “Oh my god – Anna just cried in front of everyone.”