In recent days, Vanity Fair has become the eye of a newsroom hurricane. Reports say the magazine’s new global editorial director, Mark Guiducci, is considering putting First Lady Melania Trump — the former model and fashion icon — on the cover. The move provoked such fury among certain employees that one offended editor swore, “I will walk out the motherf**king door, and half of my staff will follow me.”
This threat wasn’t idle chatter. “We are not going to normalize this despot and his wife; we’re just not going to do it. We’re going to stand for what’s right,” that editor reportedly said. “If I have to work bagging groceries at Trader Joe’s, I’ll do it. If [Guiducci] puts Melania on the cover, half of the editorial staff will walk out, I guarantee it.”
Well then — let them.
In fact, if Vanity Fair wants to regain its cultural relevance beyond its curated cultural bubble, it should hold the door open for every last one of them. Because for every teary-eyed fashion journalist threatening to flee into the fluorescent aisles of Trader Joe’s, there are 10 hungry, talented writers and editors — some of whom might even vote differently — who would kill for a shot at working there. And a bonus: they might actually know how to speak to the other half of the country.
Putting Melania Trump isn’t some MAGA endorsement. It’s smart business. She’s a two-times first lady, an international figure, a former model, and — whether they like it or not — an enduring role model for millions of women around the world. She’s graced magazines like Vogue and GQ with her image — just not since she became the “wrong kind” of first lady. That omission says more about the fashion media’s politics than Melania’s place in the world of style.
The irony is that this Vanity Fair tantrum isn’t about fashion at all — it’s about control. Vanity Fair staffers have become self-appointed gatekeepers of who deserves visibility — but their unfair coverage is proving to be in vain. Culture and business don’t thrive in insular newsrooms blinded by purity tests and ideology. They thrive on relevance, on conversation, and yes, on controversy. To succeed, you have to know the pulse of the culture, to sense its rhythm and flow. Writers and editors must identify the vein; they cannot simply spin something meaningful out of dull cloth.
A Vanity Fair cover featuring Melania Trump would tap directly into that pulse. It would spark debate, invite curiosity, and reach audiences beyond the usual fashion and cultural elites. After all, Melania is a figure who embodies contradictions — style and substance, glamour and controversy — and that complexity makes for compelling storytelling.
A Vanity Fair cover featuring Melania Trump would sell. The magazine business, like all media, ultimately answers one question: Will it make money? Regardless of the moral posturing and ideological battles waged behind the scenes, these publications survive and thrive by capturing attention, and nothing commands attention quite like Melania Trump.
So, if some staffers want to walk out over a cover that challenges their worldview — something they wouldn’t be able to handle bagging groceries at Trader Joe’s over — so be it. For everyone who leaves, there will be plenty more eager to join a publication willing to break free from its echo chamber, speak to a broader audience, and, yes, make smart business decisions.
In the end, Vanity Fair isn’t a political platform; it’s a magazine. And magazines exist to sell stories. Putting Melania Trump on the cover isn’t just a good idea — it’s a brilliant one. If Vanity Fair wants to lead culture rather than follow it, embracing that truth is the first step.
Julianna Frieman is a writer based in North Carolina. She received her bachelor’s degree in political science from the University of North Carolina at Charlotte. She is pursuing her master’s degree in Communications (Digital Strategy) at the University of Florida. Her work has been published by the Daily Caller, The American Spectator, and The Federalist. Follow her on X at @juliannafrieman.