November 8, 2025 |
Eighteen celebratory covers – and not a single celebrity. Instead, there’s a hairdresser, a mixed-race entrepreneur, an androgynous poet, a burlesque dancer. But stars? Zero. This is the special issue that founder (and anti-diva herself) Sophia Neophitou-Apostolou conceived for the 25th anniversary of 10 Magazine – born in London as an independent publication (and in some ways still one) that has grown into a global platform with five international editions.
“Too many conflicting interests get set in motion around celebrities,” says the editor-in-chief, with English wisdom and anarchic Cypriot blood in her veins. “When we’ve used them in the past, I did it in ways that made them barely recognisable. What matters to me is the power of the fashion image and the commitment to remain a platform for avant-garde conversation. Without men in suits and ties pulling the strings.”
Neophitou-Apostolou began her career as a stylist at British Vogue, before moving through The Independent, the Daily Mail and i-D, while also overseeing creative direction for brands such as Antonio Berardi, Roland Mouret and Victoria’s Secret. She built a credibility that, for this special anniversary issue, allowed her to bring together photographers like Nick Knight, Juergen Teller, Richard Burbridge, and Mario Sorrenti, along with a political portfolio dedicated to the cultural vitality of the trans community – a symbol of all cowardly discrimination, the epitome of minority beauty, a bulwark defending subjective identity against the arrogance of defining what is “natural” and what is not.
The chosen theme for the issue is Transformation.
“It’s been a year of unprecedented change,” Sophia explains from her London office, supported by her trusty crutches after an accident on the island of Ithaca. “Old certainties, structures and systems are collapsing – and new ones are emerging.”
How did the collections seem to you?
“For the first time in 30 years I followed them remotely, and it was painful. But it also allowed me to focus on the details and appreciate how the fashion houses communicate their message virtually. In Milan, I think something different needs to be done – though I’m not sure exactly what. I like the patronage Sara Maino shows toward new designers, and the space Dolce & Gabbana gives to emerging talents.”
After three decades of fashion shows, wouldn’t you welcome a break?
“Absolutely not. I’m like a fish in water and forget the fatigue and sleepless nights – just like when you become a mother. Beautiful shows are enriching aesthetic experiences, like cinema or theatre. Missing Chanel, Dior, Pierpaolo Piccioli’s Balenciaga – it was frustrating. I adore change and novelty: what will happen to Versace after the sale? What about Armani? These questions excite me as much as they did on day one. If they ever stop doing that, it’ll be time to change careers.”
Why didn’t you dedicate one of the eighteen covers to Armani?
“Because when he passed away, we had already closed everything. But in the past, we did many things together.”
“I started at British Vogue and then worked in newspapers, developing a sensibility that convinced me – at least for 10 Magazine – that images and words are equally important, and one should never dominate the other. We’re a fashion magazine, but not a picture book, and that’s something we must remember. I feel a strong sense of responsibility toward this industry, and I know that when we feature a young creative, they might use that exposure to go to a bank and ask for funds for their first show – so what we do has to have meaning.”
Putting Dirty Martini’s non-conforming body on the cover is certainly an interesting choice – but isn’t it also, in a way, part of the same system? Don’t the “men in suits,” in the end, use 10 Magazine to refresh their image and expand their market?
“The fact that a body like Dirty Martini’s is welcomed is a good thing – but I assure you, it’s becoming less and less common. We must keep spreading hope and beauty. Look at the latest fashion weeks – tell me, where has all the commitment to body diversity gone? It’s disappeared. Some girls get to sit front row, but on the runway – they’re gone already.”
During your ten years with Victoria’s Secret, you were at the heart of that battle over body image.
“To the point of making headlines when we decided to have the Angolan model Maria Borges walk with her natural short afro hair, rather than the usual long, flowing wig.”
Meanwhile, in your England, millions are taking to the streets against immigrants.
“As the daughter of Greek migrants brought in as laborers in the 1960s, it hurts.”
Is it true your mother married at sixteen?
“Yes. It was an arranged marriage – a common practice among Cypriot Orthodox families, even in my generation. My mother’s family was so poor they couldn’t even provide a dowry. But my father, equally poor, didn’t care and married her anyway.”
Were they happy?
“They stayed together all their lives. In this Greek matriarchal culture, there’s a saying: ‘The man is the head, but the woman is the neck – she decides where the head turns.’ Watching them negotiate their happiness was a life lesson. Today, as a woman leading a global company, it helps me know when to push and when to step back. Learning the tools of kindness is a gift. And my Greekness – that’s my superpower.”
So you’re not a fan of the Devil Wears Prada attitude, I suppose?
“It’s a funny movie. But if the question is: ‘Does it represent who we are today as editors?’ – the answer is no. It gives a reductive, cliché image. Even if I’ll admit, this life of hotels, stunning places, and access to impossible worlds – it still creates a few monsters now and then.”
