Once upon a time, the creative director of a fashion house was also its brand ambassador. It was unthinkable to mention Gucci without Alessandro Michele, Celine without Phoebe Philo, or Chanel without Karl Lagerfeld. Their idiosyncratic creative decisions on the designs and building the brand identity defined the character of the fashion house—sometimes for entire decades. They were truly the soul of a brand. However, the current state of fashion indicates otherwise.
Heidi Klum’s iconic statement in Project Runway comes to mind: “In fashion, one day you’re in and the next day you’re out.” Change is nothing new in this transient industry—but the frequent shufflings have shortened the tenure of these coveted roles. Furthermore, historical precedents show that prominent fashion houses like Chanel, Gucci, and Louis Vuitton are not players that favour regular changes. One after the other, Jeremy Scott, Matthew Williams, Pierpaolo Piccioli, Virginie Viard, and Peter Hawkings, to name a few, left their former positions—Hawkings was at Tom Ford for barely a year, while some are joining new houses. More recently, Tom Ford and Givenchy announced in rapid succession Haider Ackermann and Sarah Burton as their new respective creative directors.
The amount of “breaking news” and “welcome our newly appointed creative director” press releases we received had us questioning: what was the reason behind this sped-up game of musical chairs? What is this ever-evolving industry demanding from these designers and what boxes should they tick to allow them to secure their position for longer?
THE NUMBERS BEARERS
The departure of a creative director could happen for various reasons, from being caught in a controversy to a mutual split between both parties—at least on paper. While rarely publicised, in most cases it boils down to sales numbers. Creative directors used to be judged by their artistic contributions; thanks to conglomerates who place profits above all else, they now have to be entangled with the business of numbers.
It’s almost as though bringing in a new designer—Charles de Vilmorin for Rochas, for instance—brands would be able to attract a newer generation of clientele and get instant results. Ludovic de Saint Sernin lasted only one season at Ann Demeulemeester, while Hawkings went from Tom Ford’s “perfect creative director” to “wishing him all the best in his next chapter” in less than a year. The term “bridge designer” is thrown around, suggesting that some hires are not a creative decision, but rather, a sales pacifier. Vogue Business describes these designers as “bridging the gap between the brand’s founder and whoever comes next”.
Viard’s appointment in Chanel was a prime example, heavily scrutinised as many thought she had large shoes to fill. Artistically, Viard has never created anything that wowed the audience as her predecessor did—yet Chanel’s revenues have been booming. Safe to say, Viard’s contribution to the fashion house was to refresh the house codes or to “half-fill” the shoes before a successor arrived.
We could also blame it on microtrends and businesses rushing to cash in on them as swiftly as they could, and in large volumes. But Rome was never built in a day, and it takes time for creative directors to prove themselves. Looking back, some of the greatest designers took several seasons to achieve their breakthrough: Ford in Gucci, for example, was never an overnight success. In our current social media-
fuelled era, however, where going viral means everything, that would be a fairytale. What would justify this “gamble” of waiting out a creative director’s breakthrough, and which shareholder would be willing to take this leap of faith? How will a business sustain itself if the numbers are not reflected? Never mind the clothes of impeccable tailoring—how do we stir the pot and cause heated discussion?
This could be a result of a heavily flawed system within the conglomerates and supporting their designers. However, we must admit that as our attention span becomes shorter, so do the directors’ tenures.
THE CELEBRITY DESIGNER
“I’m not a fashion designer. A creative director, for sure,” Pharrell Williams said in a Vogue podcast on his Louis Vuitton appointment. Despite having a great fashion sense, the celebrity was never a designer: he is a singer, musician, and an influence of a zeitgeist. His ties with one of the biggest fashion players in the market are an example of how the nexus between celebrity and consumerism changed the rules of the
fashion game. It has now evolved from guests of honour (part of the creative direction) to becoming the decision makers.
As Dua Lipa took the final bow with Donatella Versace after the Versace Pre-Fall collection in 2023, we entered an era where fashion showcases are no longer just about the designers. Celebrities become the headliners: who filled the front rows? Who arrived late? Who opened or closed the show? Who collaborated with the brand? It’s not difficult to see why brands would want to ride the pop culture wave for exposure and sales. The involvement of celebrities lending their gravitas to a brand’s creative process could actually be one of the reasons why a creative director’s role is treated as a fleeting trend.
The term “celebrity designer” used to refer to individuals like Yves Saint Laurent who made their mark as the bellwether of a paradigm shift. Now, a celebrity designer is an actual celebrity who holds the position that had always traditionally been a designer’s. With more celebrity-led fashion and beauty brands, the impact and involvement of a pop culture icon becomes an inevitable part of the public’s buying decision. Again, when success is justified by what sells and what doesn’t, we are convinced that instead of a creative director who was trained to design clothes—or at least credited in doing so—the business favours a multifaceted public figure who has an existing following. Fashion is no longer a singular entity that nurtures and platforms emerging designers; it has become a layover for celebrities to discover an otherwise hidden talent. It looks like we may need to wait a little longer for the next Alexander McQueen while we see more Williams, Olsens, and Beckhams in the scene.
The creative director upheaval continues to be unabated. While these designers are brand hopping, many vacancies remain unfilled. Who will fill which seats, who’s stepping up or down, and who will be leaving the game completely, like Dries Van Noten? The hasty firing and hiring seems to signal the end of the golden era of creative directors in fashion. These rapid movements have us thinking: what is the relevance of this traditional role in the current fashion landscape? If artistic direction is no longer in demand, will the industry still have a need for creative directors?
This story first appeared on GRAZIA Malaysia October 2024 Issue.
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