Is anyone else completely exhausted by the revolving door of creative directors at high-fashion houses? At this point, the conversation feels like it's been dissected a million times—especially as a college student studying fashion. But with Glenn Martens heading to Dior, Demna on his way to Gucci, and Jonathan Anderson exiting Loewe, it’s impossible to ignore the industry’s relentless habit of quickly cycling through creative leads.
At its core, I get it. These changes aren’t happening in a vacuum. Gucci’s sales plummeted by billions under Sabato De Sarno. Luxury spending in key markets is shrinking. Brands are desperate to stay culturally relevant, to spark excitement, to chase the next viral moment. So, of course, Gucci is betting on one of the most talked-about designers in the industry (for better or worse) to reclaim its status.
But let’s be real—this constant game of musical chairs is exhausting. I would even go as far to say it’s actively contributing to consumer fatigue and the rapid acceleration of the fashion cycle.
For years, the industry has debated its impact on the environment and the unsustainable pace of trends. Social media, fast fashion, and Gen Z are always the easy scapegoats. But why aren’t we talking more about luxury fashion’s role in all of this? When high-end brands treat creative direction like a short-term marketing strategy, what does that mean for fashion’s future?
karl lagerfeld at chanel, image courtesy of time magazine
We’re no longer seeing the kind of long-term creative leadership that defined fashion’s most iconic eras. Designers like Tom Ford at Gucci or Karl Lagerfeld at Chanel had the privilege of time—years, even decades—to build a legacy. Today, creative directors are expected to leave their mark in just two or three years instead of 10. It’s no surprise that designers like Demna are radically rewriting house codes—because they’ve been shown they must in order to be deemed “successful”. They know they’re disposable, so they might as well make an impact while they can.
Take Balenciaga, for example. Its identity today is nearly unrecognizable from a decade ago, with only the faintest trace of its original house codes. And it’s not the only brand experiencing this. Every few years, consumers are expected to embrace a completely new version of a luxury house, which, in turn, fuels an endless cycle of reinvention which contrary to belief reaches a limit.
It's overwhelming. The constant turnover makes it harder to see exciting creative growth that is true to the brand, and the rapid shifts in creative direction only accelerate the already exhausting trend cycle. At some point, the industry will have to ask itself—are these quick-fix creative appointments really worth it, or are they just another symptom of fashion’s growing identity crisis?