The Changing Role Of A Creative Director

The fashion world is rife with drama. Between epic couture gowns swishing down the runway and backstage chaos before a fashion show, the industry thrums with adrenaline. But lately, particularly in the past several years, there’s been headline-making events of a different sort: the comings, goings, and where-the-hell-are-they moves of creative directors. While the steady stream of unexpected exits has been reported on ad nauseam, a larger conversation is bubbling here, one that centers on the ever-changing role and expectation of designers in this era and whether it’s setting them up for failure and burnout.

In an industry that ricochets between trends and viral moments faster than Sha’Carri Richardson crossing the finish line, creative directors have found themselves caught in the crosshairs of a demanding consumer landscape that’s fearless in their critiques and fickle in their spending. Just in the past year, an increasing litany of departure announcements have unfurled, ranging from Peter Hawkings, who logged less than a year as creative director at Tom Ford, to Virginie Viard at Chanel, who, despite being hand-selected by Lagerfeld as his successor, ended her five-year term as artistic director in early summer of this year.

Why the swift and sudden departures? What happened to the days of decades-long tenures?According to industry sources, today’s creative directors are often competing with a hurtling trend cycle, online pundits, accelerated fashion week calendars, and high expectations for business performance in quick turnarounds — all in the name of sustaining professional longevity.

While these announcements and shifts may have become somewhat commonplace (if no less shocking), it’s the evolution of the creative director role that’s perhaps most groundbreaking. “Some creatives held positions for decades — look at Karl Lagerfeld at Chanel — or certainly were at least given space to find their feet, get under the skin of the brand’s DNA, and flourish over time to evolve the house handwriting,” explains Emily Gordon-Smith, content director and sustainability lead at Stylus, a trend analysis company.

Indeed, in the past, designers largely had the privilege to remain at a fashion house to allow for time to fully realize their vision. “The role of a creative director is like any other job where expectations and timelines can differ from one brand to another,” says Jasmine Rennie, founder and host of Make Good Fashion, a podcast and program aimed at supporting emerging fashion talent launch ethical businesses. “But I think it's fair to say that we didn't see as quick of a turnaround 20 years ago as we are now. Historically, creative directors had longer tenures — like Marc Jacobs at Louis Vuitton for 17 years, or Karl Lagerfeld at Fendi for 54 years and Chanel for 36 years.”

To find a single marker for the shift is likely a fool’s errand. However, Phoebe Philo’s departure from Céline in 2017, after joining as the brand’s creative director in 2008, seems like a significant bookend to the traditional tenure track a creative director might forge. It felt distinct: the conclusion of a cultural moment. In the years leading up to her news, other big names like Alber Elbaz at Lanvin and Riccardo Tisci at Givenchy split ties with legacy fashion houses that they helped revive after about a decade. Similar news continues to break, of course. In addition to Viard ending her 35-year tenure at Chanel, Sarah Burton left Alexander McQueen after 26 years — 10 of which she was creative director. Jeremy Scott, too, parted ways with Moschino after a decade. Increasingly, these announcements feel like the final death rattle of a bygone era, making way for a new style of brand stewardship.

Most notable, perhaps, is how the role of creative director itself is now viewed. For one, it’s slotted into one of several categories: the aesthetes, the chameleons, and the celebrities. Take, for example, John Galliano, who brought his surreal theatricality to Maison Martin Margiela couture in one of the most applauded shows of recent years. On the other hand, Raf Simons has successfully blended his design sensibilities from his namesake line to Calvin Klein and, so far, Prada. And then there’s the likes of Pharrell Williams, who’s now at the helm of Louis Vuitton menswear — the clout alone is sure to sell a lot of monogrammed luggage.

Each offers attractive qualities and unique strengths, which may appeal to a range of brands — and shoppers. “Consumers may be loyal to a creative director, no matter the house they design for, or they may be loyal to the house as long as either of them keep producing covetable things,” says Ana Andjelic, global brand executive, author of The Business of Aspiration and forthcoming Hitmakers, and writer behind the newsletter, The Sociology of Business. “Business performance follows — it is really about hit-making: the ability of brands or individuals to be both culturally relevant that drives customer loyalty.”

It’s up to the fashion houses to identify which talent will best satisfy their bottom line without abandoning their heritage or becoming stagnant. “It’s exciting to see what a new lead will do to reinvigorate a brand’s heritage and DNA but it’s also rife with risk,” confirms Gordon-Smith. “[A new collection] has to be creative enough to make people sit up and take notice, but respectful and reverential enough to maintain customer loyalty. The sweet spot for the incoming creative director is obviously to attract a new audience whilst also maintaining the existing one.” It’s a tall order.

For many, this requires a heft of time that doesn’t always exist. “When a creative director is hired, they are typically working on their first season while simultaneously planning the next one. This means that by the time their first collection is launched, they are deep into their second season, leaving little room to assess the success of their work or make adjustments based on consumer feedback or sales data,” says Rennie. With that in mind, creative directors often start their roles at a disadvantage, she explains, tasked with finding their footing while still bringing in significant revenue and making cultural impact. She went on to cite Bally’s former creative director Rhuigi Villaseñor, whose stint ended in May 2023 after joining in January of the previous year.

“Realistically, a new creative director really needs a couple seasons to find their feet,” confirms Gordon-Smith. And though contract terms vary, when reviewing the most recent slate of comings-and-goings, many creative directors like Gabriela Hearst at Chloé, Matthew M. Williams at Givenchy, and Charles de Vilmorin at Rochas have all parted ways after around three years.

To thread the needle, creative directors must move hero or evergreen products while stoking the flames of intrigue by unveiling new collections, collaborations, or drops. “[Creative directors] are constantly testing and trying to innovate,” says Oliver Chen, adjunct and associate professor of business at Columbia Business School. “It's balancing aspects of the assortment that have stability and then newness. But you constantly must have newness.”

This is, in part, due to the nature of how trends are captured and consumed. “Social media makes trends bigger, but they shorten their duration,” explains Andjelic. “There is a frenzy of everyone wanting the same thing or the same look or that viral skirt or that hit jacket, and then everyone gets bored of it and moves onto the next thing. If a creative director cannot come up with that next thing, their tenure is short.”

Amy Odell, author of Anna: The Biography and the newsletter Back Row, put it succinctly, “If your stuff doesn't sell, you won't last.”

Gordon-Smith agrees. “Performance standards haven’t increased [from the past 20 to 30 years], per se,” she says. “It’s become extra difficult to captivate and stand out in a sea of overwhelm, to maintain customer loyalty, and to keep up with demand for newness.”

That demand to create constant newness, and bottle the lightning that is a viral garment, opens up creative directors and their employers to even more criticism, particularly on social media. “A lot of brands are doing cruise collections, special collections, weekly releases, forever presenting new pieces or runways. It used to be two collections a year,” says author Tony Marnach, who goes by DJ Fat Tony, host of SHOWStudio’s Fashion Radio podcast. “With that, there’s so much more scrutiny by critics on social media.” With an onslaught of pieces for fans and pundits to analyze, celebrate, or condemn, the likelihood of negative criticism, in turn, rises. In the end, it’s essentially a numbers game.

And even viral collections won’t necessarily save a creative director. Alessandro Michele parted ways with Gucci in 2022, despite groundbreaking seasons and viral moments (remember that Jared Leto look?). Before the announcement of Michele’s departure, Kering, Gucci’s parent company, reported a 2022 fourth-quarter loss of 14% for the brand, signaling that a viral outfit might not be enough to support an entire business — at least in the long run.

Similarly, a quick online search about Viard’s departure from Chanel will surface a range of forums that either denounce or laude her work. Did the negative social chatter contribute to her tenure? It certainly didn’t impact the brand’s bottom line: Viard left on a high note, at least according to the numbers. The brand saw a 16% annual increase in revenue this past year. But what’s becoming increasingly apparent is, just like the celebrities who sit front row at their fashion shows, creative directors have become a favorite target for social media speculation, gossip, and in the most unfortunate circumstances, trolling.

“Everyone is more scrutinized with the advent of social media,” Marnach continues. “Good and bad opinions are instantly available.” In the case of Viard, the online hostility reached such a fever pitch that even some industry insiders like Susie Lau came to her defense, saying in part, “I’m dismayed by the vitriolic hate for a woman people hardly know.”

With all the shifts, moves, and departures, it’s also called into question if it’s not time for new — and yes, potentially less seasoned — talent to have their ride in the rodeo. If fashion houses and brands seek to mix things up in hopes of appealing to a wider audience and consumer set, fresh and diverse talent might be one of the strongest paths to explore. “Both the lack of female creative directors and the appointment of celebrities over trained designers continue to be contentious,” says Gordon-Smith. “However, in some cases the celeb scenario has worked out well, as in the case of Williams at Louis Vuitton Homme. But there is a very strong case for more women getting the top jobs at womenswear labels.”

Women could also do some good at menswear labels, too. “So many amazing women doing menswear often get overlooked when it comes to heritage labels and I don’t get why,” muses Marnach, expressing his disappointment in some of the recent hirings at large brands. Further, he suggests that certain fashion houses, he wouldn’t name who (you can probably do the math), are overlooking top queer and female talent in exchange for celebrity names or designers with large social media followings.

This is an area rife for growth and might be expedited if C-suites and boards responsible for hiring creative directors reflected the markets purchasing their products — and the talent designing for them. According to the 2024 British Fashion Council’s U.K. Fashion DEI Report, there’s plenty of opportunity. “Nine percent of executives and boards in the U.K. fashion industry are held by people of color — 39% are women,” the report says.

The report, noting the recent upward trend of diversification, still professed that talent gaps — across job titles — need to be conscientiously addressed. As the fashion season marches into focus, all eyes will be on the latest appointments and departures, producing nothing less than a good bit of drama and, hopefully, some much-needed change.