The Evolution of Fashion: From Designers to Creative Directors

In the 1990s, Designers Weren’t Employees. They Were the Vision.

In the 1990s, fashion was driven by iconic designers like McQueen, Galliano, Chalayan, and Westwood. Their names and faces were synonymous with the industry. To purchase a garment was to buy into their lives and visions.

These designers didn’t just create fashion; they embodied it. Their lives were intertwined with their work, often at great personal cost. Creativity and chaos were inseparable. That was the essence of their artistry.

Today, however, the designer has largely vanished. In their place stands the creative director. This shift marks a significant change in the fashion landscape, but it is not the same.

The creative director performs a role rather than embodying it. They play the part of the iconoclast while ensuring brand stability, preserving archives, and satisfying shareholders. It’s an illusion of risk rather than its reality.

With this transformation, fashion has not only changed; it has lost something vital.

When Designers Were Dangerous

In the 1990s, fashion houses took risks on individuals. They invested not just in talent but also in volatility.

McQueen’s runway shows were more than collections; they were expressions of imagination, rage, and trauma. Galliano turned his life into theatre. Chalayan buried dresses in the ground and models under tables, pushing boundaries in ways that were both shocking and captivating.

The system thrived on biography. It demanded risk, personality, and even chaos. That chaos sold garments and created a buzz.

However, this approach was unsustainable. Designers often collapsed under the weight of expectations. Burnout, addiction, and scandal were not merely the costs of excess; they were the outcomes of a system that, by the late 1990s, began to consume its own creators.

The Rise of the Creative Director

The creative director emerged as a solution to this instability. No longer a lone genius sketching into the night, they became corporate figureheads designed to manage risk.

The difference is stark. Designers tore holes in fashion and forced something new through. Creative directors simulate rebellion within safe parameters.

They perform gestures of disruption, but it is all choreography. Style without threat. Chaos without danger.

This is why they transition so easily between houses. Creative directors are designed to fit the structure. In contrast, designers were inseparable from their worlds. McQueen was McQueen. Westwood was Westwood. When McQueen joined Givenchy, the mismatch was clear. He didn’t adapt to the house; he resisted it, which is why it ultimately didn’t work.

The Era of the Debut

In the past, the spectacle resided in the clothes themselves. Today, it lives in the appointments. Each season brings a reshuffle—a new creative director at Gucci, McQueen, Givenchy, or Dior. The succession becomes the headline, overshadowing the collection itself.

The reason is simple: these changes are formulaic. The script rarely varies. There’s a nod to the archive, a promise of continuity, and a gesture of disruption. The audience applauds, the press responds, yet the clothes barely register.

Moreover, it’s always the same familiar names rotating between houses like players in a game of musical chairs. Each arrival is framed as a reinvention, but the results are often more of the same.

Yet, one question remains unasked: why is there still no eponymous house for Hedi Slimane, Sarah Burton, Alessandro Michele, or Nicolas Ghesquière? Why do the most capable designers keep returning to established legacies instead of building something new?

What We Lose Without the Designer

When designers were at the centre, fashion was dangerous. But it was also alive. Clothes carried the charge of human experience—messy, obsessive, and contradictory.

The archive, once a resource, has become a lifeless proxy for a living vision.

The industry sacrificed the designer to survive. In doing so, it stripped away what made fashion feel urgent: authorship. Real people telling real stories through their clothes.

If every season is merely another debut by the same old faces, the issue is not just creative exhaustion. By refusing to let new designers build new houses, the industry ensures that no future legacies will emerge.

The problem with a system built to extract value from deceased designers is that eventually, there’s nothing left to exhume.

The Future of Fashion: A Call for New Voices

As we reflect on the evolution of fashion, it becomes clear that we must embrace new voices. The industry needs fresh perspectives to thrive. We can no longer rely solely on established names.

The future of fashion lies in allowing new designers the space to create. They must be given the opportunity to tell their stories and shape their narratives. Only then can we hope to revive the urgency and excitement that once defined fashion.

In conclusion, the shift from designers to creative directors has altered the landscape of fashion. While stability may have been achieved, it has come at a cost. We must advocate for a return to the roots of creativity and chaos. Let us celebrate the visionaries who dare to challenge the status quo.

By doing so, we can ensure that fashion remains a vibrant and dynamic force, reflecting the complexities of human experience.