MORE THAN A WEBSITE, STYLE.COM FELT LIKE AN ERA. Launched by Condé Nast in the early 2000s, it sought to produce insightful coverage of the fashion industry with the speed and volume that websites such as Gawker and Buzzfeed had conditioned readers to expect.

The challenge was clear: maintain high quality amid a growing number of outlets leaning into a see-what-sticks strategy.

When I joined the staff, in early 2012, the site had a stable of wildly talented writers. Nicole Phelps, Matthew Schneier, Tim Blanks, Maya Singer—there are few who can do the job better.

During Fashion Weeks, millions of people visited the site each day. The team often wrote reviews on their phones while racing in cabs from one show to another. The production staff, under the kind guidance of managing editor Brian Sullivan, more or less lived in the office.

After fourteen- or fifteen-hour days, I’d walk up Third Avenue, my vision blurry from editing, to get a few hours’ sleep before hurrying back to Forty-seventh to review a few more stories for the readers who checked in while drinking their morning coffee.

Working there brought the excitement and treachery one might experience while riding a Vespa down the steps of an art museum. For that reason, the staff felt like a family, and we shared a “you only know if you know” kind of camaraderie.

Whether it was the unrelenting pace or something more financial, the site migrated to Vogue’s website in 2015. It seemed to signal that speed had won for now.

But by then, I’d already decided to move to Lookout Mountain, Tennessee.