The news hit like a tsunami: Demna Gvasalia—better known simply as Demna, the Georgian designer behind Balenciaga—was named creative director of Gucci. The result, Kering’s stock plunged 12.4% after the announcement—its worst single-day performance since 2008.
Then, a few days ago, another shockwave: JW Anderson, the talented Irish designer that helmed Loewe for 11 years and transformed it into a fashion powerhouse, left the Spanish brand (word on the street is that he is heading to Dior). His successor? Not one, but two: Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez, the duo behind Proenza Schouler.
Suffice it to say that those are two distinct case studies, each offering a unique perspective on the shifting dynamics of luxury fashion. Yet, both illustrate the high stakes of creative leadership in an industry where designers are shaping brand identities, driving financial performance, and, in some cases, making or breaking billion-dollar empires.
Loewe after Anderson
Jonathan Anderson’s long tenure at Loewe marked a transformative era for the once-obscure Spanish luxury brand, propelling it into the forefront of contemporary fashion. Appointed as creative director in 2013, Anderson revitalized Loewe by seamlessly blending its rich heritage of leather craftsmanship with modern design sensibilities and avant garde ideals. He introduced iconic pieces like the Puzzle Bag, which became emblematic of the brand’s innovative approach under his leadership, and made the simple tank top, albeit emblazoned with the Loewe logo, a cult status must-have. Anderson’s vision, however, extended beyond fashion; he established the Loewe Foundation Craft Prize in 2016, celebrating excellence in craftsmanship and reinforcing the brand’s commitment to artisanal traditions.
His collections often featured experimental silhouettes and playful designs, reflecting a deep engagement with both high art and popular culture. Runway shows under his guidance became anticipated events, known for their intellectual depth and cultural relevance. Through collaborations with artists, Anderson positioned Loewe as a dynamic force in the fashion industry, appealing to a diverse and discerning audience.
What will the next day bring? Probably a change not welcomed by all. And, definitely, a long and uncertain transition period, one that could challenge Loewe’s momentum and potentially weaken the Maison before it finds its new footing.
Gucci’s hit and miss
Alessandro Michele’s (now at Valentino) tenure at Gucci from 2015 to 2022 was marked by a distinctive bohemian aesthetic that blended eclectic patterns, vintage inspirations, and gender-fluid designs. This bold vision revitalized the brand, resonating with a younger, fashion-forward audience and propelling Gucci to new heights in the luxury market. However, over time, critics and consumers began to perceive Michele’s designs as repetitive, leading to concerns about brand fatigue and a decline in consumer interest.
In 2023, Sabato De Sarno was appointed as Michele’s successor, aiming to steer Gucci towards a more refined and universally appealing style. Despite his efforts, De Sarno’s minimalist approach clashed with Gucci’s existing maximalist retail identity, leading to a disconnect with the brand’s consumer base. This misalignment, coupled with ongoing supply chain issues and declining sales, culminated in a significant 25% drop in revenue during the third quarter of 2024. Consequently, De Sarno’s tenure was cut short after just two years, highlighting the challenges luxury brands face when attempting to reinvent themselves under—most of the time—the relentless pressure of impatient shareholders.
Enter, Demna, Kering’s enfant terrible, the mastermind behind Balenciaga’s transformation into a cultural phenomenon—though not without controversy and missteps along the way. But is there such a thing as a one-fits-all designer?
When the glitter settles
So, can brands survive a creative shake up?
We are living in the era of the star designer, where a name alone can send stock prices soaring or plummeting. Once upon a time, designers built their own brands, creating worlds that reflected their distinct creative visions. Now, the model has flipped. Designers no longer serve the house; instead, the house is molded to fit the designer. Gucci became Michele’s Gucci; Loewe was unmistakably Anderson’s Loewe; and Balenciaga is, without question, Demna’s Balenciaga. Creative directors are no longer mere custodians of a brand’s legacy—they are the brand itself.
But how long can this strategy work? The relentless cycle of creative overhauls and aesthetic reinventions has made luxury fashion feel increasingly like a game of musical chairs, where every few years, a new designer steps in to impose their vision before being swiftly replaced. With every drastic reinvention comes risk (brand dilution, consumer fatigue, and, ultimately, diminishing returns). If customers fall in love with a designer rather than a brand, what happens when that designer moves on? The very thing that made these labels thrive could be what makes them fragile.
At some point, the question becomes not whether brands can survive these shake-ups, but whether they can sustain them. Because when the glitter settles, what remains?
