In the waiting room of my favorite barber shop, a stack of magazines always includes the latest edition of Condé Nast Traveler. It is thus that I am able to read a periodical that I would never dream of buying. I harbor an animus to that elegant journal because of its slavish devotion to the travel interests of the undeserving, fashion-conscious rich. I long ago concluded that its articles were mainly meant for the top 1% in income groups.
But I was wrong. In its latest reincarnation, Condé Nast Traveler is designed for the top one-tenth of one percent of our population. I am literally stupefied by the absurdly elitist tone of a publication that was once dedicated to “truth in travel,” in the words of its founder, the respected journalist Harold Evans.
Apparently, Condé Nast Traveler has undergone a recent shake-up which resulted in the departure of a large part of its staff, in favor of people dedicated to rhapsodizing about the travels of the richest of all Americans.
The magazine’s advertising content is the best indication of that. Page after page in numerous recent issues is devoted to exquisite jewelry, women’s apparel of the most expensive sort, furs and priceless wristwatches, every sort of high-fashion product and gift. The back cover of its current summer issue consists of two words—Bottega Veneta—appearing underneath a full-page photograph of a haughty model leaning on a piece of elegant furniture. Those two words on a complete back cover are supposed to advise like-minded readers of the ultra-expensive Italian retail shops selling the priciest clothing and accessories imaginable.
And as if the fashion emphasis of the new Condé Nast Traveler isn’t sufficiently prominent, its new publisher (formerly the publisher of Glamour magazine) has recently trumpeted that he has obtained advertising commitments from “Ferragamo, Celine, Fendi, Bottega Veneta, Maserati, Simon, and Blancpain”. (Will they change the name to Condé Nast Stylish Traveler?)
As for the editorial content of the newly-upscaled Condé Nast Traveler, if you could imagine how a high-fashion magazine like Vogue or Harper’s Bazaar would deal with its recommendations of travel facilities, you’d be right on in describing the current approach of our friends at Condé Nast. The overwhelming attitude and approach is towards the super-expensive, the kind of travel that a Donald Trump (or better yet, his high-fashion wife) would undertake. Authors of articles in the magazine go ga-ga about deluxe hotels of the most expensive sort. They fantasize about super-costly restaurants. In a recent issue, the magazine recommends that you vacation at two, small, totally unknown islands off the coast of Germany, that only the most elitist traveler would consider.
In terms of advice and opinion benefiting the travels of the average American, forget it. In the new Condé Nast Traveler, those humans scarcely exist.
So I will leave the current issue on the waiting room table of my barber shop. It has nothing to teach me—or you.
