My love of magazines began early. I remember my mum telling my friends that I would go out to play after finishing the magazine I was looking at. I was six. Then, with those same friends, we spent hours with a board game called Scoop. You had to win stories and fill the front page of a newspaper. At ten, with two close friends, we produced our own magazine and sold our 40 copies door to door to people who thought we were cute. Later, living in the north of England, I would travel miles to find a copy of the counter-cultural newspaper International Times. In my twenties I could spend hours in a magazine wholesaler, thanks to my father-in-law who ran a village store. Later still, my work took me all over the world and I discovered the new world of independent magazines, bringing them home for family presents. In Brighton, Saturday mornings were spent with two shelves of indie magazines in the Borders store in Churchill Square. And then, they closed. Luckily, we had a little money that let us do something a little crazy. So, we did and here it is.