In Dublin lost its In this week. Many who knew it in its early days would say it lost more than that a long time ago. Indeed, some might say the 1999 incarnation shared little more than a name with the fledgling publication that hit the capital's conscience on April 16th, 1976.
A young solicitor's apprentice, John S. Doyle, had founded the tiny listings magazine with two friends, Ted Turtan and Kieran McGinley. It cost 10p, was a half-A4 size page and was to become, in Eamon Dunphy's words, an "anti-establishment street bible".
There was, according to Doyle, "nowhere you could get listings of everything in one place".
As well as gathering information on upcoming gigs, movies and gallery openings it also gave young writers such as Dave Fanning, Michael Dwyer, Colm Toibin, Fintan O'Toole, John McKenna and Mary Raftery a platform when they might not otherwise have had one. "There wasn't much opportunity to train as a journalist," says Doyle. "I think it was important because it was an opportunity for young people who were not afraid to be serious to write."
In 1978 it moved from Westmoreland Street to offices on Bachelor's Walk. The following year David McKenna, now a producer in RTE, was appointed features editor.
Fintan O'Toole, then a UCD student, recalls McKenna as the one who transformed the features content. "He was influenced by American magazines like Rolling Stone," says O'Toole, "and published long, in-depth features which really weren't being done anywhere else at the time." McKenna, he says, nurtured the Tom Wolfes and the Hunter S. Thompsons around him, encouraging a literary, narrative approach to complex issues.
Politics was covered without mercy. During the February 1982 election campaign a cover declared: "Anything Is Better Than Charlie Haughey". At the next election, "Nothing Could Be Worse Than Charlie Haughey" was emblazoned across its front.
Between 1985 and 1987 John Waters was at the helm. He steered the fortnightly periodical directly into the prevailing wind. In 1986, the year of the Self-Aid concert, intended as a charity event for the unemployed, In Dublin snorted: "The Great Self-Aid Farce" on its cover.
On stage at the gig, U2's Bono strayed from the lyrics of Bad, to sing: They crawled out of the woodwork/On to the pages/Of cheap Dublin magazines.
Unfazed, the magazine hit back in its next issue. "As a live gig, by all accounts, it was great. In terms of its stated objectives SelfAid was a flop. Unemployment is rooted in the economic and political structures of the country. To pretend to confront it while refusing to challenge these structures is naivety at its best, cruel deception at its worst."
Nell McCafferty remembers In Dublin saving her from starvation. Having left The Irish Times to write a book, she unsuccessfully re-applied for a job there in 1979. "In Dublin took me on, no problem. I could write on anything I wanted."
Throughout all this period the magazine was carrying the "health studio" ads. Roger Cole, who was in charge of advertising from late 1977 until "about 1981", used to call the ads the "rub-a-dubs". He would only allow two pages of them per issue and remembers no objection to them.
He adds, however: "It was the only magazine taking classified ads from gays at the time, and I do remember one of the banks withdrew its advertising because of them."
By 1988 it had become a labour of love for Doyle, who sold it to Vincent Browne. Fiona Looney was appointed editor and she remembers the year of Browne's ownership as the only one when the "health studio" ads were not run.
"It was a massive loss in revenue." she says." But we didn't want it to look tatty."
With printing changes, magazines lost their monopoly on colour advertising. The title was losing money and Browne pulled out. Writers left - for the other Browneowned titles Magill and the Sunday Tribune - and the magazine collapsed.
Ger and Carol Egan bought it, although it continued to lose money. It was back on the market in 1995 and was bought by its current owner, Hoson. In a 1996 interview, Siobhain Cronin, who edited for a year, said the short, snappy articles and effervescence on every page reflected what young people in the mid-1990s wanted. "According to her, `We don't court controversy. It's not our role' ".
She was replaced in 1996 by John Ryan, who says he "injected fun" into what some regarded as a "staid and dated formula" by then. "We borrowed a lot from the new men's magazines, Loaded and FHM," he says. Under him, circulation rose by 24 per cent.
Alanna Gallagher had taken over from Declan Burke in July last year. Under her stewardship circulation has been at a healthy 10,000 to 15,000 fortnightly. Last night there was some doubt over her future after an earlier report that she had submitted her resignation.
According to a spokeswoman from Eason's, the new Dublin magazine is doing even better. Yesterday, she said, it was "flying off the shelves much faster than the old In Dublin".
