The Creative Director Cartel
Why fashion’s hottest job can’t keep a boss
One minute, creative directors are hailed as visionaries. The next, they’re ousted before we know it. In an industry obsessed with innovation but shackled by the bottom line, is the role on its way to being obsolete?
Fashion’s game of musical chairs has always been cutthroat, but lately, it feels like someone dialled things up a notch — and that’s putting it mildly. Creative directors are being shuffled around like high-stakes poker chips in a series of moves that are making even the most knowledgeable industry insiders check their notifications twice.
The first bombshell of 2024 dropped when Pierpaolo Piccioli, the soul of Valentino for 25 years, was swapped out for Alessandro Michele. Then Dries Van Noten, a name synonymous with poetic prints and an IYKYK seal of approval, announced his departure from the house he built. And John Galliano, the force behind Maison Margiela, left after a decade, with many wondering what he’ll be getting up to next.
Meanwhile, 2025 is ushering in another season of change. Louise Trotter ditched Carven for Bottega Veneta, leaving Matthieu Blazy momentarily jobless. Within no time at all, Blazy had landed at Chanel. Jil Sander waved goodbye to husband and wife duo Luke and Lucie Meier, ending their seven-year tenure. And in a move that stunned no one and everyone at once, Sabato De Sarno was shown the door at Gucci after just two years.
If you thought that was all, think again. After 23 years, Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez stepped away from Proenza Schouler. Over at Dior, Kim Jones made his exit after receiving the Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur — handed to him by Anna Wintour, naturally. A well-timed accolade before a well-timed departure.
And if the rumour mill is correct, WWD has reported that Casey Cadwallader will soon part ways with Mugler. But the big reveal so far this year has been that Glenn Martens has taken the helm at Margiela. His exit from Y/Project in 2024 sent fashion whispers into overdrive, and the industry barely had time to take stock before he was confirmed as Galliano’s successor.
This has left some, mainly me, wondering… what’s with the constant comings and goings? Is fashion’s hottest job not all it’s cracked up to be?
I’d boil it down to the usual suspects as to why this is happening. Think: cultural shifts, economic instability, soaring production costs, and the gnawing realisation that the old guard’s playbook no longer works. From Haider Ackermann debuting at Tom Ford to Sarah Burton at Givenchy and Michael Rider at Celine to name a few, 2025 will be a year of creative director firsts on a scale not seen before.
From visionary to corporate pawn
Blink, and you might miss an entire creative director tenure. Between 2021 and 2023, brands seemed determined to anoint the next big thing — young, buzzy designers took on the impossible task of reviving heritage houses overnight. Look no further than Rhuigi Villaseñor at Bally and Ludovic de Saint Sernin at Ann Demeulemeester. They represented something new, something different. But in the time it takes to launch a single collection, many of them were already out the door.
The moment a designer is appointed, their work is subjected to a relentless cycle of hype, scrutiny, and dissection. Every collection is a referendum, every misstep a headline. Once, creative directors were god-like figures; now, they’re competing for attention in an algorithm-driven world. And just like the A-listers in their front rows, they’re often reduced to gossip fodder. Loved today, mocked tomorrow, trolled forever more.
Adding to the chaos, brands have fallen into a toxic cycle of seeking out star designers to solve all their problems, only to discard them when the turnaround isn’t immediate. The result? A growing list of abandoned brand identities, collections that feel more like social media campaigns than long-term visions, and a creative director title that’s starting to feel more like a pandemic temp job than a position of power.
At its core, fashion is locked in an existential struggle: short-term ROI versus long-term brand identity. The pressure to generate immediate sales and social media buzz has left little room for the slow, steady work of building something meaningful. A creative director’s job has never been more demanding — or disposable.
Fashion’s new obsession: pop culture over pedigree
Once upon a time, a creative director lived and breathed fabric, silhouettes, and craftsmanship. Now? They might just be the person with the biggest social media following. The appointment of Pharrell at Louis Vuitton and A$AP Rocky at Ray-Ban signals a growing shift: luxury fashion isn’t just selling clothes anymore; it’s selling cultural relevance.
It’s a savvy move, and I get it. Celebrities at luxury houses bring built-in fan bases, instant media buzz, and the kind of pop culture cachet that heritage brands can’t dream of manufacturing on their own. But it’s also worth asking: do fashion houses now just want a famous face to front their brand?
Take A$AP Rocky’s role at Ray-Ban. On February 27, at the height of Milan Fashion Week, he threw a dinner to celebrate his appointment as the eyewear giant’s first-ever creative director. Among the A-list attendees? Brent Faiyaz, Ice Spice, Charli D’Amelio, and Romeo Beckham — a guest list that reads more like a Gen Z algorithm than a traditional fashion soirée. The party doubled as a sneak peek at Rocky’s unreleased designs, which, in retrospect, he’d been teasing for weeks. During his recent three-week stint in the public eye, Rocky rotated through a steady stream of Ray-Bans. Then, just three days after his acquittal, Ray-Ban made it official.
This isn’t just about musicians stepping into the fashion world — it’s about fashion’s accelerating shift from people with knowledge and expertise to those who have a little, or a lot, of clout. The job of the creative director, once synonymous with an oath-like allegiance to the industry, is increasingly becoming about brand image, celebrity pull, and cultural impact.
The collateral damage no one talks about
For most of us, fashion’s game of musical chairs is brunchtime gossip. But behind the scenes, every shake-up sends shockwaves through an ecosystem of designers, art directors, press officers, assistants, and more. A new creative director doesn’t just mean a new aesthetic; it often means an entirely new team. And some directors bring more than just a fresh vision — they come with reputations, egos, and completely different working styles.
The truth is, great collections don’t come from individual genius alone; they come from dedicated teams of talented people. If you thought this constant churn of leaders was exhausting for us, put yourself in their shoes. Every time a house hits the reset button, it makes long-term cohesiveness nearly impossible to maintain. When luxury is in chaos, the trickle-down instability seeps into premium and high-street brands, muddying trends and making fashion cycles even more disposable.
And then there’s the elephant in the room: the diversity problem. If the same narrow male gaze keeps setting the tone, we’re just recycling the same POV over and over again. An analysis by Vogue Business of 35 major brands found that only 10 creative leadership roles are held by women. Among the men, just three are men of colour, and of the women, only one is a woman of colour. In an industry that loves to drape itself in the language of inclusivity, these numbers are telling.
So, where does fashion go from here? With creative directors burning out faster than ever, we may start to see anonymous teams leading brands instead of singular visionaries. The question is, will this lead to a golden age of collaborative creativity, or will it mark the moment when data-driven decision-making fully takes over? If brands become obsessed with market-tested analytics over actual innovation, we could be looking at a future where algorithms dictate collections more than artistic instinct.
The yearn for something new…
New-age creative directors are barely lasting a season. With the relentless cycle of hiring, firing, and promotion currently underway, creative director tenures have become shorter than a TikTok trend. A bigger conversation is bubbling under the surface — one about the ever-changing role of the big fashion boss and whether today’s industry structure is setting them up to fail.
Creative directors are now caught in an impossible crossfire: expected to satisfy an increasingly demanding consumer base who are critical, fickle, and ruled by algorithms that prioritize hype over heritage.
Looking at things in this light, it doesn’t look good. If a designer innovates too much, they risk alienating an existing customer base. If they play it safe, fresh eyeballs won’t land on the brand in question. The emphasis on the moment over the masterpiece has turned fashion into entertainment, and that’s a shame in the long run.
And yet, there’s a paradox here. Even as brands chase the next viral hit, we, the people, crave something deeper. There’s a hunger for fresh perspectives, a desire for storytelling and community — all of which require unique viewpoints and varied lived experiences. True artistry doesn’t come from a one-size-fits-all mentality.
Will we get to see a renaissance of artistic leadership in the near future, or is fashion destined to become just another cog in the machine? The industry is at a crossroads. Either it slows down and allows designers the time and space to create something meaningful, or it continues this endless churn — until there’s nothing left to replace.
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The actual issue behind it all is that publicly held companies are not good for the specific type of creative business and life cycle that luxury fashion involves. At this point the amount of growth demanded of brands is creating dilution & destruction through poorer quality in an attempt to gain margin, dumbed down “commercial” product like Gucci’s recent fare or relaunching LV X Murakami which feels like a lazy cash grab, confusing marketing for brand identity, and the constant churn of creative teams as a band aid for each BUSINESS (not creative) flop. There are just too many short sighted bland brands that don’t really stand for anything aside from their current marketing deck and growth at all costs.
Fully agree. It’s increasingly rare to see brands give time (and trust) to creative directors so they can develop their vision. When new collections are not immediately successful, patience from CEOs and investors runs thin (as in the case of Sabato de Sarno at Gucci). The fact that we keep seeing the same big names cycling around fashion houses is also concerning, as brands are less and less willing to invest in new talent and tend to prefer directors with an established track record of success. I’ve also written a few thoughts on this, leaving it here :) https://open.substack.com/pub/whyyoushouldcare/p/creative-director-shuffle?r=laov1&utm_medium=ios