Quando eu me encantei por Moda, eu me encantei primeiro pela Harper's Bazaar e pela então editora Liz Tilberis. Aqui um texto sobre ela publicado no :
" She took the chill out of fashion. Her warmth and humanity were ever present. Her illness she treated with robust humour - "my cancer diet" she said of her slimmed-down figure - and she campaigned tirelessly to raise awareness of ovarian cancer and wrote candidly about the condition in the magazine. Her courage, even when she was in terrible pain, was formidable.
Her policy as an editor was completely open door. She inspired fierce loyalty, not only in her staff but also in the photographers, models, make-up artists and hairdressers who worked for her. She regarded herself as part of a team and never claimed credit for herself alone. "A magazine is made only of people," she once told me. "It walks in the door in the morning, and out the door at night. People sometimes forget that."
Liz never did. That's why she loved America. She loved its openness, its willingness to celebrate success and to embrace new ideas. When she was invited to New York by the Hearst organisation in 1992 to revitalise the ailing Harper's Bazaar, there were many on both sides of the Atlantic who said it was an impossible task. Undaunted, Liz set up camp alone in a dark basement in the bowels of the Hearst building. For three months, she talked into a telephone. Using tenacity, determination and sheer charm, she pulled together a strong creative team and within a year, Bazaar rose phoenix-like from the ashes to take its place alongside Anna Wintour's Vogue.
She loved every moment of the magazine's success and took great joy in it. When the paparazzi turned their cameras on her, she was incandescent with delight, for it marked Bazaar as a major player in the ruthlessly competitive American market. The media made much of the rivalry between Liz and Anna Wintour, the two English-born editors, and Liz, who knew a good story when she saw it, publicly played the game to the hilt. Privately, she expressed only respect for Anna Wintour, who responded in kind.
Liz was a great leveller who loathed snobbery in people as well as fashion and that, as an editor, was her great strength. Everybody, in Liz's eyes, was equal, but nobody was more equal than the readers of her magazine. Earthy, practical and with a wicked sense of humour, the only thing she truly revered was talent, which she encouraged whole-heartedly. All of her ex-assistants, of whom I am one, remember her with huge affection. She became our friend, as well as our mentor. The charm, which she possessed in bucketfuls, was five parts warmth, three parts humour. It was a formidable weapon, wrong-footing even the chilliest opponent. Her reputation for niceness was legendary but disguised a formidable determination. She was the iron fist in a velvet glove.