THE only person more delighted than Marie O'Riordan at her recent appointment as editor of Elle, is her mother.
Not because in the glitz and glamour world of women's magazines it's reckoned the most prestigious Job going, but because it means an end to the seemingly endless copies of More!, that for far too long have been thudding through the O'Riordans' Dublin letter box courtesy of its former editor, their daughter.
"I had them on the mailing list just so they could see what I was up to. My dad would read it but it was always disappearing and I'm convinced my mother was throwing it in the bin. She thought More! was horrifying. When I became editor two years ago, it became a bit more acceptable you know `My daughter the editor but she still hated the magazine. She's hugely relieved I'm now working on something else."
Well, frankly, you can see her point. Although More!'s phenomenal success (more realistically spelled "sexess") is outstanding in the cut throat world of teen magazines, it's hardly what you would expect from a nice convent girl particularly when the nice convent girl fronts each issue with hair raising accounts of her super glamorous, whizz bang lifestyle.
Its circulation of 430,000 giving a monthly figure of nearly a million is higher than any other glossy magazine in Britain, but its innuendo free, how to get, keep and lay your man format takes a bit of getting used to even for seasoned watchers of The Girly Show, the ethos and vocabulary of which are the nearest most of us will come to getting a flavour of More!'s unusual style.
With Elle losing heavily at Marie Claire in the top glossy circulation war was sex the secret weapon planned to fire its relaunch? The new editor tosses back her head and a volley of deep throaty chortles fills the small box that passes as her office. "Oh no, God no" Chortle, chortle. "And it's such a relief. I was actually on More! for six years. I was orgasmed out" Chortle, chortle.
Convincing the board that she wasn't about to turn Elle into an older version of More! was, says O'Riordan, "a huge obstacle". The next obstacle was her lack of fashion experience. But fashion, she told them, was the best part of the magazine. It was the rest that needed improving.
You can imagine the appointment panel all nodding in quiescent agreement. In her stark black trouser suit, minimal make up apart from a slash of plum lipstick, at 35 O'Riordan exudes the authority and charm of a liberally minded headmistress of a school where tapes are seen as an expression of natural exuberance and "Could Do Better" is less an admonishment than a springboard for success.
Elle's secret weapon will be humour. "The people who publish women's magazines seem to think that when women hit 20 they lose their sense of humour. Marie Claire is a good example. It's terribly earnest, terribly sober and actually doesn't reflect how exciting women's natures are. Doesn't reflect how eclectic they are. They can read Hello! or a page all about nail varnish but are really very happy to talk about Martin Amis in the pub all night. It irritates me that women's magazines don't reflect that eclecticism while men's magazines, such as GQ or Esquire do. And so that's what I'm going to do with Elle. It will have wit, it will have spirit and it will have quality writing. Because another thing that irritates me about women's magazines is that they're ideas led the writer is irrelevant. But I want Elle to become synonymous with fine writing."
The idea that the former editor of the racy, pacy teen mag, notorious purveyor of "position of the fortnight" should be interested in fine writing comes as something of a surprise until her background is unveiled. Born in Dublin, Marie O'Riordan grew up in Kilmacud. After conventional schooling at Muckross Park College in Donnybrook, O'Riordan opted not for university ("it wasn't the tradition in our family") but work, and the Sun Alliance. But after three years she packed it in, ("found I didn't enjoy it") to read English and History at UCD followed by a "quickie MA" in modern English and American literature. A career in mainstream publishing beckoned. Journalism was not considered.
After a year as a librarian at the National College of Art and Design, O'Riordan left for England. Two years of dreary jobs in the hinterland of publishing gave her enough experience to apply in 1989 for a job as sub editor on More! It was only when O'Riordan took over as agony aunt that she began to enjoy More! for what it was.
In fact, hidden behind O'Riordan's success at More was an up grading of style and content designed to shift the age up, making it more up market and terms of fashion, less "tarty" wanted to make it more aspirational, more flattering to the reader. These girls want to look sexy but they don't want to look like a hooker." Her success at More! has been recognised not only by the Elle appointment, but in the just released nominations for the industry important Periodical Publishing Association Best Editor Award, the result of which will be announced in May.
As for circulation increasing changes in Elle, O'Riordan plans to raise the upper age profile to 35, from 30. But it won't be issue led. Elle will be "all about indulgence and pampering". Like much else in her plans, one senses what she really wants is a magazine she'd like to read herself. She agrees.
"Yes. I'm thinking of myself and my contemporaries who are bored with women's magazines because they're not funny and because they don't reflect women's intelligence. Although the circulation figures don't bear it out, I know that a lot of Marie Claire readers are bored. If they haven't stopped buying it, it's because there's nothing else. I think there is a tide change which I feel strongly I can capitalise on." As for sex, it will have its part, but only when appropriate.
As the interview draws to an end ("My diary is a nightmare"), talk turns to Dublin and how all her old friends from UCD ("on the creative side, film makers, writers, theatre directors, that kind of stuff") have ended up back there, and how she misses "the Irish sensibility".
"Every time I go back I feel this is my spiritual home. But there's no work for me. If we really were talking about going back to Ireland, then The Irish Times is where I'd like to work." Watch this space. But not just yet.
In the meantime there's a man she hopes to meet Philip Treacy, "Milliner of the Moment". They first met 10 years ago in Dublin when his career was just beginning. "I'm really looking forward to going up to him and saying Hello. Remember me? I used to be the librarian now I'm editor of Elle!"