EDITOR’S LETTER
It was the early noughties when I first met Michael Wolff, at a Condé Nast conference in Venice. He was the star attraction, delivering a motivational (and rather inspirational) talk on the back of his successful 1998 book, Burn Rate, which was about his failed experiment as a digital entrepreneur. He was a terrific, if slightly laconic, speaker and I loved him. We stayed in touch and would see each other occasionally when one of us was in London or New York. He always made a point of visiting Savile Row to stock up his wardrobe and was always the bestdressed diner in Claridge’s. I was told not to trust him, not to tell him anything I wouldn’t want anyone else knowing and certainly never to hire him. So, obviously, I hired…