Being Tyler Brûlé: jet-setting style maven reflects on a life in the air, and Monocle magazine’s first decade
For more than 20 years, since an ill-fated assignment in Afghanistan, the Canadian journalist has been conquering audiences and polarising opinion. Fresh off a red-eye from Bangkok, he talks Brexit, 9/11, and flying with boors
Tyler Brûlé is a journalist, a publisher, a businessman and a great divider of opinion. He’s the man who founded both Wallpaper* and Monocle magazines. Many people, however, know him best from the back-page column he writes in the Life&Arts section of the weekend Financial Times – a weekly account of his hectic travels and purchases called The Fast Lane that readers love to hate.
A typical Tyler week might include trips to Stockholm, Bangkok and Tokyo. It could focus on the quest for a variant of some supremely mundane item (socks, paper, pencils) that’s available only in a hand-spun version in an unmarked back street known to approximately three people, none of whom speaks English. While the various tortoises who’ve written the slower columns on the same page potter about inhaling the daisies, Brûlé hares across the globe accruing both impressive air miles and underwear that’s been crocheted by Faroe Islanders from the throat whiskers of baby reindeer.
Actually, the whole thing’s almost impossible to send up. In 2005, one reader wrote to the FT to congratulate it on such a brilliant parody of the design and marketing world: “Everything from his hilariously unlikely name to his pointless whirl from one business-class lounge to another makes for the most perfect take-off of this vapid world.” The letter’s slightly plaintive tone – it is a joke, isn’t it? – was prompted by a mention in the previous week’s column of a desirable carpet sweeper. (The FT ’s heading for this letter – Brûlé is crème de la crème of parody – makes one wonder if the paper itself is conducting a long-running reader, and possibly writer, tease.)
When I asked people in advance of this interview what they thought of him, a few made gentle gagging noises. Others rolled their eyes dismissively. A friend e-mailed to say he thought that Brûlé’s real name is Anthony. (In fact, it’s even better than that: it’s Jayson.) But here’s the thing: everyone knew who he was and, between retches, they were reading his opinions, often avidly.
A decade ago, it was already being claimed – by the International Speakers’ Bureau, which was organising his appearances on the talk circuit – that “almost everything you see, read, wear and do” is Brûlé influenced. Although that’s a bit of a stretch, it does bring to mind the Meryl Streep/Miranda Priestly speech in The Devil Wears Prada (2006) in which the trickle-down effect of a particular shade of blue is brilliantly tracked.
