My God. I can't believe it. I'm actually sitting here, writing one of those editor's letters about "why we redesigned the paper."

I'm having serious flashbacks, because I've worked for other editors (Eliot Kaplan at Philadelphia magazine, Michael Caruso at Details) who've had to write similar letters. I didn't envy the poor bastards. How do you convince a reader that he/she should care about the groovy new san serif font in the photo credits?

And then it hit me. You don't.

Successful redesigns should be transparent. Ideally, you should be vaguely aware that the reading experience is improved somehow, that things are easier to find, and you find yourself flipping pages more slowly.

But you shouldn't read it and think, Ooooh, nice gutter index.

And that's what guided us as we set out to redesi … OK, I'll stop using that word. Refresh the paper. Our goal was to chop away the dead wood, making the best stuff catch your eye more easily.

And hopefully, draw attention to the new stuff we've added, such as:

The spread you're looking at right now. I thought that the paper opened up with a bit of a whimper (the table of contents) instead of a bang. So instead here's a meeting place, for just the two of us. The two columns at the far left and right? That's yours. Tell us what we screwed up, praise what you liked or spout off about almost anything.

I'll respond—to your thoughts, and other goings-on in the city—in my creatively titled "Editor's Letter" (I decided to scrap WTF; too many people thought it meant White Transgendered Female). Think of me as your host. I'm not the most important guy at the party, but I'm the one who can take your coat, tell you where the drinks are and sometimes lend you bail money.

Naked City's new address (page 8). We've moved this in front of News because Hickey lost the coin toss. Nah, I kid. We moved it for pacing reasons: lighter, quirkier stories, followed by hard news, followed by our main feature. It's the same reason you have foreplay before the main event. And now that I've likened Brian Howard's section to a blowjob, let me move on to …

Culture Shock (page 25). The new gateway to our massive A&E section, Culture Shock is an attempt to create a virtual cocktail party—the good kind, where you rub elbows with interesting people and walk away with a mental checklist of stuff you're suddenly dying to find. Curated by A&E Editor Lori Hill, this new page is also our way of introducing you to the city's thriving creative class. Theirs are voices that should be heard more often.

The Agenda (nee Listings, page 50). Listings-type sections—an all-inclusive rundown of events—have long been a staple of alternative newsweeklies. And the model worked … until about the turn of the century. What would you rather do—eye-crawl through a sea of gray type, or simply Google "porn scrapbooking"?

I was worried that our listings sections had become fly-over country, so I charged Associate Editor Ashlea Halpern with the task of making the damn thing readable. She responded with a sharp series of new recurring features (such as "Where We Won't Be") in the vein of the ones she's added to our restaurant listings (such as "Feeding Frenzy") while you weren't looking.

OK, OK—yes, there are font changes. New icons. Exciting and thrilling uses of white space. New cartoons. Even a nice new gutter index.

All of which are things you really shouldn't worry about.

One thing, however, should not be transparent: the hard work of outgoing Art Director Jessica Weber, who first started toiling over these pages last summer, and incoming Art Director Reseca Glasser, who helped Jessica complete the vision. Nothing strikes fear into the heart of an art director like the words "redesign," but Jessica and Reseca consistently impressed me with their innovative thinking and creativity—and most importantly, resisting the urge to trash what was already working.

I hope you enjoy the face-lift.

But like good plastic surgery, I'm actually hoping you don't notice it.