“I’m a sort of grab things with both hands person,” says Vanessa Kingori OBE, as she settles into a discrete corner of the terrace at Maison Estelle – the chic Mayfair private members’ club. When we meet, the news is not official, but she’s about to leave Condé Nast (where she’s been chief business officer since 2021 and publishing director of Vogue since 2017) to become Google’s new managing director of tech, media and telecoms. It’s a hefty portfolio, with a focus on helping businesses drive growth through AI-powered technology and advertising solutions. It’s the ultimate Kingori power move, going from the legacy media titan, where she worked closely with Edward Enninful as he recast Vogue as a diverse and creative powerhouse, to tech’s preeminent company, in one spectacular leap.
To Kingori, staying on top means always evolving. At Condé Nast, she went from working with one editor-in-chief to having ten content leads at Vogue, GQ, Tatler, Wired, Vanity Fair, World of Interiors, Glamour, House and Garden, Condé Nast Traveller and Johansens. The jump to Google is a bigger pivot. “As technological change continues to evolve our businesses, lives and careers it feels like the moment for me to occupy a seat at this table,” she tells me after announcing the move. She leaves just as the publishing house manages the transition from Enninful’s dynamic Vogue editorship to a new structure, with Chioma Nnadi leading the title as head of editorial content. Following Enninful’s stellar stint at the magazine is no easy task. Expectations are high, but Kingori is confident that Nnadi, a Londoner who got her start on the Evening Standard and was editor of Vogue US’s website, is more than up to the task. “I think the only way to navigate [the job] is to do things your own personal way,” she says, adding, “my hope is that the industry, and the company, allows her to do her thing and let her talents shine.”
For all the demands on her time, Kingori looks relaxed. She’s immaculately put together in Paige denim flares, Paloma white shirt (a favourite new British brand), Bottega Veneta suede trench coat and Gucci clogs. “You tend to find me in more classic brands with accents from newer, exciting designers, designers from the African diaspora and British designers,” says Kingori, who lays out her looks for the week on Sunday to save time. Her hair is pulled back from her beautiful, heart- shaped face and she sips on a matcha latte as she tells me about her life.
coat by MAX MARA, shoes by CHRISTIAN LOUBOUTIN
“No day is the same,” she says. With so much to do, five AM starts are not unusual. “Once the day has started it tends not to stop, with meetings, calls, face-to-face with clients, face- to-face with team members and usually some sort of evening event. And I always try to put my son [aged four] to bed at least four to five days a week.”
She’s an advocate for working mothers, particularly in corporate environments. “I saw a generation of women before me in our industry who were conflicted about striving for the private lives they truly desired. I think for women in my position, it’s really important for me to show up in a way that helps the next generation… One of the things I push for is to be visible with my son, whom I had in my first year leading Vogue. I want to set examples where leaders and organisations adapt around our real lives.”
Alongside juggling the demands of family life with a high-pressure job, in June she signed her first book deal via the literary and talent agency, Curtis Brown. Publishing in 2025, the book will be a compendium inspiring game-changers of difference. Kingori joined the board of the Royal Opera House in 2021, where she feels her unique understanding of both creativity and commerce can be invaluable. With the Arts Council cutting their investment in the ROH by nine percent, they’re having to figure out new sources of revenue. “How do we do that in a way that honours what we do and the beauty and the creativity? I’m happy to add value in a space like that. I have a strong roster of personal projects outside [of my job], which really feeds my soul,” she says.
from left: coat by MAX MARA; coat by DIOR
Kingori believes in maximising on serendipity. Her success has arrived not through premeditated planning but by seizing the opportunities that have come to her, a trait she inherited from her grandmother and her mother, who has an MBE for services to midwifery. Her grandmother picked cotton on a plantation in St. Kitts and was the descendent of slaves. She wanted more for her children. “She had this idea that the world was really big, and they should go out into it.” Kingori’s mother left the island aged 17 and travelled to the UK, where she knew no one, to train as a nurse. Kingori was born in Kenya and grew up in St. Kitts, before moving to the UK aged seven to join her family. They settled in West London, where she was the only Black girl in her class at convent school. “But I was not race-aware,” she says of that time, “because when you come from a Black country, there’s nothing that tells you that being Black is something of note. I’m grateful for that naivety. By secondary school I was more aware.”
She credits her early years in Kenya and St. Kitts with instilling an appreciation of both creativity and commerce. “You could make something or have an idea and go out to the market that weekend and turn it into money. The intersection of creativity and enterprise has always been something interesting to me.” She was entrepreneurial from an early age, “I always had money making little businesses,” she says. Her first was designing personalised stationery, which she sold to classmates. Then, making contacts in other years she expanded through the school. It was an early indication of her formidable sales and network-building skills. “I’m grateful to the teachers for not shutting me down,” she says.
from left: coat by ALEXANDER MCQUEEN, shoes by CHRISTIAN LOUBOUTIN; dress by HERMES, shoes by JIMMY CHOO
Art school wasn’t an option, though. Her family expected more. “The whole ethos of my grandmother and my mother was that every generation should do better than the last.” She studied management and sociology at Royal Holloway University of London, but after graduation she still didn’t know what she wanted to do. “I used to have anxiety about that. Perhaps because of my family being working-class but aspiring to work in middle-class spaces, the paths were not visible for me.” She modelled and worked in events, but it wasn’t until she got a job at the Evening Standard that things fell into place. She loved working with editors and excelled at selling ads. “I was working in the sales team. But in the middle of it all was creativity,” she says. “Selling is an art. Edward’s nickname for me is Mama Kingori. He says I remind him of those slick women in African markets who are selling, and I’m here for it. I do think I have some ancestral sales skills,” she says, adding, “everything, everything in life is a negotiation.”
She remembers a senior male colleague at the Standard saying, “one day you will be the publisher of Vogue”, a post historically held by ex-public-schoolboys. “Condé Nast was this closed-off, faraway land, but with hindsight I think he planted a seed in me.” After a stint on Esquire, she was poached by Condé Nast to be the publisher of GQ. “I was the first woman [in the role]. I was the youngest by some significant way, which was probably the biggest barrier. And also being openly working-class, at Condé Nast… It was very controversial.” No-one could argue with the numbers, though. Under Kingori, GQ posted its best revenues in a decade.
But when a move to Vogue was suggested, she wasn’t keen. “When Vogue initially came up, I thought it was under the last administration. It wasn’t the right fit for me,” she recalls. Then she noticed Enninful was spending more and more time in London. Something was afoot. “He came to see me and said, look, this is what’s happening [he was to become the first male and first Black editor of Vogue]. But I heard that you’re not interested. I’m like, wow, hang on a minute. This is different.” She and Enninful, who grew up not far from Kingori in West London, shared a goal. “We just spoke the same language. He loved that I understood what his mission was. Jonathan Newhouse was very encouraging of us working together. I said let’s do it. Let’s shake this shit up.”
jacket by VIVIENNE WESTWOOD, skirt by GUCCI, boots by JIMMY CHOO
The publisher and editor relationship has historically been confrontational, with the publisher’s priorities (make as much money as possible) often not aligning with the creative goals of editorial. Kingori has always seen it as a collaborative relationship, though. “That’s where you get the most magic,” she says, taking the approach to new levels at Vogue, where Enninful’s message of diversity has cut through commercially, radically changing the cultural conversation. “If you are going to do something, do it big and do it properly, that creates momentum,” says Kingori. She cites the magazine’s May 2019 issue, which came with a special 80-page supplement featuring Jane Fonda on the cover and numerous women over the age of 55 inside. Generously sponsored by L’Oreal Paris, it was a huge commercial success and opened the door for other older women such as Dame Judi Dench and Miriam Margolyes to be considered worthy Vogue cover girls. Under Kingori, Vogue has also burst off the page into real life, with a slew of money-spinning parties and events. She saw the potential of this early on, when Enninful held a signing session for the March 2018 issue, which featured Gigi and Bella Hadid on two covers wearing Versace. People camped out overnight to get editions signed by the new editor-in-chief. “There was well over 1,000 people there,” recalls Kingori, who had to break the news to the queue that he had only signed 200 copies, “And people said, ‘I just want to meet him’. It was a lesson for me in trusting your gut and it opened up a huge revenue stream. We had a 750 per cent increase in revenue on experiential lines that year,” she says.
Kingori has stepped into many rooms where she’s the only woman or only person of colour and says that standing out has given her an edge. “I was really comfortable with being an outsider,” she says, attributing it to the culture in Kenya and St. Kitts, where fitting in is not the aim. “Everybody wants to stand out. They are peacock environments. In church on a Sunday in the Caribbean, no one wants to wear the same thing. It’s who has the biggest hat, who has the loudest singing voice.”
She’s learnt to lean into her womanhood and celebrate her status as a working mother. “I’m driven. I expect a hell of a lot from my team, I’m intuitive and empathetic.” That last quality is something of her superpower in business. For Kingori it unlocks difficult negotiations and helps get people onboard with her ideas. “The fastest way to turn a no into a yes is by understanding where the no is coming from, then you can pick it apart, then you can dissect it.” That’s Kingori. Cool, clever, strategic, determined, remarkable. Fashion’s loss is tech’s gain.
Taken from 10+ Issue 6 – VISIONARY, WOMEN, REVOLUTION – out now. Order your copy here.
dress by ROKSANDA, shoes by CHRISTIAN LOUBOUTIN
Photographer ADAMA JALLOH
Fashion Editor THALIA METALLINOU
Text CLAUDIA CROFT
Talent VANESSA KINGORI
Sittings Editor GARTH ALLDAY SPENCER
Hair CARL CAMPBELL using Hair by Sam McKnight
Make-up FRIDA GIRONI
Photographer’s assistants TAMIBE BOURDANNE and SAM BUCKMAN
Fashion assistants GEORGIA EDWARDS, SONYA MAZURYK and AMALIA ALEYEVA
Location THE ROYAL OPERA HOUSE, LONDON
Special thanks to EMMA COX, LATISHA FLECKENSTEIN, SIR LLOYD DORFMAN, THE STAFF AND BOARD OF THE ROYAL OPERA HOUSE
Jewellery throughout by AARIA LONDON and MARIA TASH