Laid Off: Style Editor at Teen Vogue

"Teen Vogue was a dream that didn’t seem possible."

Nov 06, 2025

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In today’s issue, I talk to a former Style Editor at Teen Vogue on what it’s like being at the center of media headlines this week.

When the Teen Vogue news dropped, it didn’t feel like just another media layoff. It felt like a collective heartbreak. My feeds were full of people mourning — writers, editors, readers, even friends in completely different industries. Former staffers’ posts went viral across LinkedIn, X, and Instagram. There’s a GoFundMe for the laid-off team. Articles are being written about the grief that’s followed the loss of a publication that made politics feel inseparable from everything else: style, music, fashion, lifestyle. It took those things seriously, and in doing so, took its readers seriously, too.

It’s moments like this that remind me why I started Laid Off — to document what these mass, cultural moments look like at the individual level. To capture how something that feels seismic online actually lands in someone’s real life. To build a kind of archive of media, of labor, of loss.

For this issue, I spoke with 27-year-old Aiyana Ishmael, a former Style Editor at Teen Vogue, who’d been at the publication for four years before learning on November 3rd that Teen Vogue would be folded into Vogue. Staffers were given a team meeting and told the news. If you received a call with HR later in the day, you were impacted.

“It doesn’t feel real,” Aiyana said. “Even now with the outcry of support, testimonials, and remembrance, I cannot believe that this huge moment in time is something I’m directly impacted by.”

What were some of the projects you worked on while you were there?

My column, CTRL+C, where I recreated celebrities’ outfits on a plus-size body. My deep dive into tween fashion, its evolution and how trends are directly connected to trying to build community. My cover stories with Maddie Ziegler, Jordan Chiles, and Lola Tung. All of my op-eds, from discussing Kim Kardashian’s Marilyn Monroe Met Gala look to defending fashion exploration for young Black girls like North West and Blue Ivy. Also my cultural explorations on using social media to impress your crush and existing as a floater friend as a young adult.

Who was the first person you told after getting laid off?

I called my family group chat. My mom’s a teacher and my father is a college football coach. They both were in meetings when I SOS called. My older brother picked up first and I broke down crying. Eventually, my parents joined the call too.

What was the first thing you did after receiving the news?

I cried. But then I started cracking jokes ‘cause what else can you do?

There’s a particular kind of heartbreak that comes with seeing a publication you love reduced to a press release. How did that release contrast with the lived experience?

It doesn’t feel real. Even now with the outcry of support, testimonials, and remembrance, I cannot believe that this huge moment in time is something I’m directly impacted by. The announcement is so black and white, while my life is experiencing an immense amount of gray area.

Condé Nast said Teen Vogue would “keep its unique editorial identity.” From your perspective, what does that actually mean?

I’m not quite sure, honestly. It’s hard to imagine what that identity will look like when the remaining team is so small. Our original team already struggled to make sure we highlighted and represented as many different types of Gen Z people out there, so I can’t imagine it’ll be an easy task with a handful of remaining team members.

You said you got your first byline at Teen Vogue while in college. What did it mean to come back years later as style editor — and to now watch that same door close for the next generation of young writers?

It was so special. Teen Vogue was a dream that didn’t seem possible. Freelancing for them in college changed my entire outlook on what was possible in my life. Getting the job there felt like answered prayers. All I hope is that Teen Vogue can still serve as a reminder to never give up. Stay loud. Stay powerful. Stay inquisitive.

For students and early-career writers who just lost a stepping stone for their first bylines, what advice would you give?

Don’t give up. The industry may look bleak, but don’t ever stop advocating for yourself and for your career. Make them hear you. Ask for more and remind them that you’re not going anywhere. Teen Vogue is different now, but that doesn’t mean they won’t desperately need your voice.

One of the things that always stood out about Teen Vogue was how political and unafraid it was, even under a luxury fashion umbrella. What was it like working inside that tension: a progressive publication living under Condé Nast’s corporate parentage?

It definitely was a difficult balance, but a necessary one. I always say, Gen Z contains multitudes. You cannot approach them with such shortsighted perspectives and assumptions on what they care about. It might not have always been the easiest thing to navigate, but it was necessary. And that’s what matters most.

You edited stories that helped define how Gen Z saw themselves... politically, culturally, and stylistically. What story or moment from your time there captures what Teen Vogue stood for at its best?

I’d have to say, personally, my column CTRL+C. It’s that mix of pop culture, with service journalism, and diary entry-style writing that young people enjoy.

@teenvogue

Teen Vogue on Instagram: "Welcome to CTRL+C 2.0, Teen Vogue's r…

There’s been a larger wave of media consolidation. Do you think there’s a future for publications that center young, diverse voices within legacy media?

I have to believe there is a future for it because that is what young people deserve. I refuse to say it can’t exist anymore.

When you zoom out — from Teen Vogue to media as a whole — what does this moment say about who legacy publishers think is worth investing in?

Their idea of what’s profitable. That’s what they’re investing in.

What do you want your next chapter to look like? Is this a grieving period, a plotting period, or both?

I think it’ll always be both. I’ll be grieving for a long time, but bills need to be paid so I’m planning the next thing. I have no choice but to swim, no matter how difficult it may feel right now.

Anything else you’d like to add?

Long Live Teen Vogue!