I've never entirely understood Details. Growing up on Bainbridge Island, Washington, I used to subscribe to it religiously, before it was a Conde Nast publication. In, say, 1992, it was as cutting-edge a magazine as I'd ever seen, full of cutting-edge fashion and a blending of cultures that blew my mind as a high-school senior. These days it feels like the Arts & Leisure version of GQ, for an audience that would rather read about futuristic architecture than sports. I'm one of those people, mind you, but I don't quite see why Conde Nast keeps them both going.

The magazine is the heavy-hitter in its field, with an enormous readership and ad pages that make it the Vogue of trade publications. I've done a couple of pieces for them, and its editors personify the charming, omniscient stereotype of industry journalists - they seem to know absolutely everyone anywhere one goes with them.

The very talented Brad Wieners, who later became editor in chief before moving on to build Bloomberg Businessweek into a powerhouse title, brought me on board.

I did two stints at Adventure as a freelance "consulting editor" under John Rasmus. He'd assembled a great team there, and commanded deep loyalty from pretty much anyone who has ever worked for him. The magazine was shuttered in 2010, however, and Rasmus is pursuing digital projects, last I've heard. His team went on to Popular Science and GQ, among other places.

ReadyMade was the bible of DIY (do-it-yourself) culture - a Martha Stewart for the rock-n-roll set. Before I worked there, I used to visit offices at magazines like Wired, Metropolis, and other design titles, and I regularly saw it atop the pile stacked on an editor's desk. It was a fresh voice in a publishing sector which too often promotes design as something you appreciate by buying it.

The magazine is so goddamned good I don't subscribe anymore. At best I find it simply offers too much I want to read, and in my low moments it fills me with self-loathing.