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See what I mean by diverse? Today, when the word is deployed by the likes of the BBC, it just means people of various hues and sexualities all saying the same thing on everything from the importance of breakfast to the horridness of Brexit.ДЄs for me, when I wasnвЂ™t drooling over pop stars half my age, I was getting into massive squabbles with academics. There was an ongoing column - so pertinent now - called If I Ran The BBC, written variously by Garry Bushell, Mariella Frostrup and Quentin Crisp. Mark Steyn took down the untouchable Dennis Potter Richard Littlejohn took a hatchet to the hypocrisy of the broadsheet newspapers and their parasitical relationship with the tabloids. Thomas for writing tips and found a dirty old man. A young Louise Doughty, now a famous novelist, visited D.M. A very amusing ongoing column by Cheers writer Rob Long of conversations with his agent. A review by one of the Velvet Underground - Sterling Morrison - of a book about the Velvet Underground. The eternal enigma that is Ian Penman, who I chased down and snogged into submission. Suggested reading A brief history of profanity

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The covers and headlines were funny and forthright вЂ“ вЂњKEANU REEVES вЂ“ YOUNG, DUMB AND FULL OF COMEвЂќ вЂњWHY PRINCE CHARLES MAKES ME SICKвЂќ (Guess who by?) DI HARD: WHY DIANA IS OUR POP PRINCESS (Me again!) POSH SPICE вЂ“ IS SHE FUCK! WAZZA MAZZA WIZ GAZZA? (David Runciman - now a distinguished academic.) I didnвЂ™t keep anything from those days, but Cosmo still has a collection of old copies, including an ironic вЂњhome-shopping catalogueвЂќ supplement that features a Julie Burchill doll, basically a Barbie dressed in black with dark hair: вЂњPull the string and she tells you how much she earns.вЂќ Keanu Reeves did not respond to requests for comment. When Maxwell found out he applied for an injunction against the magazine and, when that failed, pursued us through the courts for damages.вЂќ On the eve of the court case, which would have without doubt bankrupted us, Maxwell went for a midnight swim - and we were off.

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The run-up was very dramatic - as Toby put it a decade ago: вЂњWe couldnвЂ™t afford a laser printer, so the literary editor, who also happened to be the assistant arts editor of the European, sneaked us into Robert MaxwellвЂ™s newspaper emporium and showed us how to use the equipment. вЂњImagine if FR Leavis was editing Smash Hits!вЂќ I said at the time. LOW CULTURE FOR HIGHBROWS was our strap-line inside our first issue of Autumn 1991 our two-page mission statement was accompanied by images of Bart Simpson and Roland Barthes. So I wasnвЂ™t surprised when he gathered around him a coterie of very clever youngsters who got it completely. He was full of life - more exuberant than anyone IвЂ™d ever met.

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Cosmo told me that heвЂ™d given Toby the classic anti-hero novel What Makes Sammy Run - and Toby read it as a usersвЂ™ manual rather than a cautionary tale. Toby used to say that he had вЂњnegative charismaвЂќ heвЂ™d walk into a room and everyone would loathe him.

Suggested reading The dying art of the hatchet job And so we started to plot: вЂњIвЂ™ll be boss because IвЂ™m the rich one and Toby, youвЂ™ll be the editor because youвЂ™re the clever one.вЂќ It occurred to me that he was a new type of person - as much concerned with Baywatch as Beowulf - who needed a new type of magazine. When Toby joined our conversation, I remember marvelling at his ability to one minute bang on about the Frankfurt School and some bird called Theodora Dorno, and the next do an impression of Bart Simpson. It all started on a sunny spring day in 1990 as we queued for a rollercoaster at Thorpe Park, Cosmo and Toby were talking about Intellectual Stuff while Jack and I - both video game addicts - chattered away about Mario. (We were such a close threesome that my son, Jack, was blessed with the middle name Tobias.) When I abandoned my first marriage and small son at the age of 24 to elope with Cosmo, I promptly annexed Toby as my amigo-in-chief. Toby was a teenager when I met him in 1984, his academic family living next door to CosmoвЂ™s in Islington.

This month marks 30 years since the first publication of the Modern Review, the magazine which I co-founded with Toby Young, my then soulmate, and Cosmo Landesman, my then husband. вЂњBurchill wonвЂ™t be involved,вЂќ a source confirmed, which is probably for the best. It was the first IвЂ™d heard of its return since I closed it down in 1997. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I read in the Evening Standard last month that вЂњlegendary Nineties hellraiser magazine Modern ReviewвЂќ is making a comeback.