The New GQ is Here—And It’ll Take You Everywhere

Whatever semblance of taste or cool I acquired came via my two older sisters. Nadine and Susie taught me about Jeff Buckley, Radiohead, and Run-DMC. They explained that That Guy Keanu in Speed was, actually, The Guy. They demonstrated an unreasonable number of ways to style a pair of Doc Martens. They were my source for newness. They knew about everything that I didn’t know to look for.One day, my sisters brought home the Australian edition of GQ. On the cover was Pharrell Williams, then the frontman of N.E.R.D. It was a special issue devoted to music. They thought he was hot. I thought he looked cool.The issue began in Los Angeles and then zigzagged around the world: a profile in New York, a scene in Paris, a feature in Perth. From suburban Melbourne, I was transported to, well…everywhere.After that, I became a God-fearing GQ reader. I bought the British edition. I bought the American edition. I read and read and read. Thanks to GQ, I learned why this fella Mitt Romney was so robotic. I learned how a bunch of exotic animals came to be roaming the streets of Zanesville, Ohio. I came to know and admire writers like Wells Tower and Caity Weaver. It taught me about Zegna suits and Hermès ties, and why Bottega Veneta’s intrecciato leather looked so opulent. It taught me about money and flirting and hedonism and political theater.Me and my sisters, circa Christmas 1995.Courtesy of Adam BaidawiAs soon as I finished high school, I began incessantly pitching the editor of GQ Australia. Eventually, I got a yes. GQ took me around the world as a reporter: rural Australia, Cape Town, Atlanta (where I walked onto a Marvel set with a very young Tom Holland), Baghdad, Tokyo, and Marrakech (to stay at La Mamounia—still the greatest hotel in the world). I was never—not for a single, fleeting moment—bored.Eventually, just traveling for GQ wasn’t enough. So I became the first editor in chief of our Middle East edition. After three years in Dubai, I went to London, where I led British GQ for five years. A few weeks ago, GQ brought me here, to New York City. I am, proudly, the sixth person to lead this brand.Next year, GQ will turn 70. It predates ESPN and CNN by decades. At least five American presidents have appeared on its cover. It is a true American institution with an irrepressibly global view. So…what should GQ be now?Here’s what I’ve decided:Though many others will read it, love it, contribute to it, and be a part of our universe, GQ will be a magazine for and about men.We will be worldly—the coolest people I know look far beyond their own backyard.GQ will be expansive. It will move easily between fashion and film, sports and politics, money and manners, pleasure and power. It will be funny, sad, stimulating, heartbreaking, cynical, earnest—the whole dynamic range. It will contain useful things, beautiful things, serious things, and things designed purely to delight you.Our latest issue is here. Subscribe now to secure your copy and get one year of GQ for $1/month. Sometimes, people ask what the point of this whole operation is—especially in the year 2026. After all, we’re competing against ungodly forces for a mere sliver of your attention. There is more to read, watch, buy, and know than ever before. And yet, I feel like it’s never been harder to discover something.An algorithm is brilliant at returning you to yourself: another song like the song you liked, another shoe like the shoe you bought, another opinion like the one you already hold. A great magazine can break that spell. It should put something unexpected in your hands and make the world feel larger. It should make the boundaries of who you are and who you can become wonderfully fuzzy. It should tell you something new. That’s the whole point.GQ's September issue—my first—starts at a Gaudí in Barcelona, cuts to the US, and then slips away to Lake Maggiore, the most underrated of Italy’s northern lakes. It takes you from a $175 bowl of lobster fettuccine to the White House press room, from a game of pool with Jalen Hurts to a Grand Prix in Montreal.Somewhere in those pages, I bet, is something you did not know to look for.All those years ago, my sisters brought GQ home. It showed me what to know, what to question, what to covet, and what was just around the corner of culture. It felt like it could take me anywhere—and it ended up taking me everywhere.Let’s see where we go now.A version of this letter from the editor originally appeared in the September 2026 issue of GQ with the title “This Isn’t What You’re Looking For.”