In the first half of 2025, the air got heavy in the rarefied world of luxury fashion. In simplest terms, the financial results of most houses took a hit. Now, worsening financials are bound to be treated as an issue everywhere. Still, within an industry used to years of seemingly unstoppable growth, they came with added injury and a particularly sour aftertaste.

Analysts, insiders, and commentators went into a frenzy, rushing to identify causes, advance theories, and propose solutions. Most analyses focus on the macroeconomic context and how different geographies and market segments contribute to growth (or not). It’s the Excel part of the problem, so to speak. 

But an increasingly large and loud cohort of observers admits that this “luxury crisis” is chiefly due to a lack of consumer desire, with financial headwinds being an aggravating circumstance, not the other way around. The chief problem is this: Fashion no longer excites. With every new runway show or collection launch, consumers mutter criticisms like: “It all looks the same,” “It’s just expensive merch,” or “We should go back to being creative.”

Creativity, or lack thereof, is being cited as the root of all evil. 

The luxury fashion industry has collectively tried to tackle this negative sentiment by deciding that a new creative jolt was necessary. This is how the alleged “Big Fashion Reset” came to be. (A Google longtail search will give you a sense of how big the surrounding conversation is; I know, searching stuff on Google is borderline boomer behaviour at this point in history, but it still makes occasional sense.)

For the non-fashion-adjacent, the “Big Fashion Reset” was essentially the mass exodus of creative directors from major fashion houses. At least 13 houses had new designers and creative directors in place for the latest round of fashion weeks for Spring/Summer 2026 in NYC, London, Milan, and Paris between September and October. Gucci brought on Demna, who previously served as Creative Director at Balenciaga, a brand owned by the same conglomerate that controls Gucci. Balenciaga also made headlines with its own significant debut, naming Pierpaolo Piccioli as its new Creative Director. Chanel onboarded Matthieu Blazy, Dior hired Jonathan Anderson, and the list goes on and on. Most of you probably don’t know a lot of those names, and that might be part of the problem.

The Big Problem with Fashion’s Creative Reset

Regardless of the specific names, there is a single underlying assumption behind all the changes. It’s the idea, almost formulaic in its linearity, that since the creative juices are running low, a new creative director will make them flow again. We go back to the Excel: if one factor is too low, you boost it, and the model will inevitably rebalance. 

Ah, if only life were that simple.xls.

My points being that a) life is not that simple, b) a new line of (lateral) thinking is needed, and c) Excel is only marginally better than Microsoft Teams.

Because the reality is that the alleged “Big Reset” didn’t lead to much change at all. Plenty of tastefully chic clothes were on show, here and there. A reset? Not really. Something to get newly excited about? Even less so.

A small disclaimer is needed at this point: luxury fashion is impervious to traditional sentiment analysis. Most of the online conversation, volume-wise, is driven by paid endorsements: influencers, idols, and creators (paid to attend, paid to wear, paid to…well, they don’t really write but the emojis skew positive), Hollywood celebs (same), and online commentators. Substackers have also been recruited, although it took communication offices a few seasons to become aware of their existence. Of course, what’s left of fashion media is still in the picture, though they barely scrape by thanks to advertising money paid for by,  you guessed it, the same brands they “review.” 

The only way to get a proper sense of what is really happening is to look at the private chats. Fashion insiders have a habit of forcing 24/7 smiles in public and then spilling the beans in private. Pay attention to the few places where the commentary truly runs free and, above all, just go out in the real world and connect the dots. The private chats showed some positive sentiment toward certain debuts, but only at a 1:6 ratio compared with public utterings. And, anyway, the restaurants got more talk than the actual shows.

Based on multiple observations across several fashion capitals and resort destinations, luxury fashion shops tend to be empty, while fashionable restaurants are indeed bustling.

Throwing Fits, the post-streetwear arbiters of style, commented on Demna’s Gucci debut, saying they couldn’t imagine young people caring about any of it. (Although the actual phrasing was heavier on profanities.) 

Emilia Petrarca reported from Milan (on the pages of The New York Times, no less) that a lot of people don’t even know (care?) about who the creative director for a given brand is.

The young people don’t care, the somewhat older don’t know, and everyone is hungry for restaurants, not fashion. The real situation is, of course, more complicated and nuanced, but I do believe that playing musical chairs with creative directors is not the way out of the crisis.

Luxury Fashion is No Longer in Fashion

Allow me to compress history: (Luxury) fashion used to be a cottage industry, big on creativity and egos, yet very short on efficiency and operational excellence. Creative directors reigned supreme, and best practices and political correctness were nary a concern. This is the fluidly defined era that gave us McQueen’s Highland Rape collection, Gaultier’s Chic Rabbis, and Margiela’s first show.

Fast-forward a few decades, and luxury fashion is a busine$$. Huge turnovers, sprawling retail footprints, telco-sized marketing budgets, a managerial class to handle the complexity, and merchandisers to ensure that the high-minded vision for the brand includes hooded sweatshirts and boy jeans.

Being a business comes with an unconditioned reflex: you have to grow! Enter new markets, enter new segments, advertise more, and find new customers once you have exhausted the historical base. Today, many so-called luxury brands are in fact largely dependent on “aspirational buyers.” Increase prices while lowering production costs. Focus on carry-overs, icons, and perennials because creativity is a risk. Luca de Meo, Kering’s CEO, recently stated that he wants to limit the influence of creative directors to just 20% of a collection, with the rest based on market and sales data. Focus on accessories because they are easier to sell and carry higher margins. All of this plays into the bigger picture: large holdcos won’t even consider a brand as an acquisition target unless it exceeds $1 billion in value.   

This hardcore, slightly predatory business mindset worked splendidly, until it didn’t. (Which is circa now.) A lethal mix of greed and aversion to risk and creativity pushed the whole proposition over the edge, and now, everything looks the same, from the product to the websites, even the communication. In its relentless pursuit of growth and efficiency, the luxury fashion industry has become ubiquitous and too visible, and now suffers from significant wear-out

Consumers are offered the chance to buy multiple copies of the same item they already own, at absurd price points. The aspirational class simply cannot afford these items, while the Very Important Clients (VICs) are intelligent enough to understand when they are being played. Couple this with the fact that, in general, the products are lower quality, and consumers are interacting with so many more interesting brands and options. 

Luxury fashion will not disappear overnight, far from it. But as a category, it now has to contend with a whole new set of competing aspirations on top of the macroeconomic headwinds that analysts keep blaming for the crisis.

The New Aspirations

So, what do people want? The itch for non-essential, pleasurable purchases is always there, so how do people satisfy that craving now that luxury fashion labels are past their prime?

Oh boy, do we have some options for you!

Let’s have a look at Fashion, before we move into other categories: Vintage/secondhand is obviously on a tear. It’s more exotic, better-made, more unique, cheaper, and, one could argue, more sustainable. It also exists at all price points: you can hunt for Y2K tops on Depop or buy archival Romeo Gigli at Desert Vintage. You can even hunt for items that barely exist, like the sweatshirt from an obscure art-moving company that Harry Styles wore in a paparazzi shot, or the Cresta Run hat (IYKYK). It’s about the thrill of the hunt and the ability to project cultural clout. Good luck finding that on the shopping floor of a random luxury department store.

For consumers who want to spend less, dupes are always an option. These copycat items have been widely adopted for both practicality and, occasionally, a touch of high-and-low mix-and-match snobbery. At the end of the day, Zara communicates better than most A-list luxury fashion brands, which makes it a viable alternative, at least some of the time. (Keep an eye on Massimo Dutti.) By the way, I’m using “dupe” in a broad sense. If a mid-market brand offers looks that mirror The Row or Khaite at a fraction of the price, many people will have no qualms about considering it. Some will even brag about buying these items with their whole chest.

Once consumers land their look, they will undoubtedly want to finish it off with some lipstick or cologne. If you look at some of the latest financial reporting for LVMH, it’s pretty clear that Sephora is one of the few bright spots. LVMH’s arch-rival, Kering, just offloaded its Beauty division, yet its CEO declared that the company should launch a wellness/longevity play in partnership with L’Oréal. Dries Van Noten, another Fashion brand, just opened its first Italian boutique. The catch? It only sells fragrances, beauty products, and some accessories. No actual fashion in sight. 

Tokyo hair salons, referral-only Pilates studios, facial suites, and, of course, Ozempic injections. This is where it’s at: a hybrid of beauty, skincare, fragrance, and general wellness. 

Aspirations go beyond the body itself. Home décor, interior design, and furniture are other obvious areas of interest that extend into art collecting. It used to be about “it bags,” but now it’s more “it sofas” (Pierre Paulin’s Dune probably wins), Louis Poulsen lamps, and curated design galleries.

Finally, we should consider the world of “experiences”, which basically means travel, food, and hospitality. Belmond trains, $4,000/night hotel rooms, the American Psycho-tinged thrill of securing a table at the latest buzzworthy restaurant. Or how about leather-boots-scented tea?

The list goes on and on, but the point is that the aquifers of desire never run dry. They just flow differently, with fashion becoming a more minor tributary.

The Fashion industry employs many knowledgeable people, and I’m sure many of them are fully aware of what is happening, Luca De Meo’s words about wellness being just one example. And yet, once again, the predatory business mindset isn’t helping. By and large, the initiatives I have witnessed so far reek of “diversification” and “entering new categories.” Comically priced lipsticks, mid restaurants sporting logos on every surface, and hi-fi gear where the fashion branding simply inflates the price fivefold. They are blunt, mechanical, and formulaic. They don’t bring the ethos of a fashion house into a new category. They just stamp a brand on it.

Luxury conglomerates should worry less about the creative directors leading the fashion business and more about a new type of creative direction that leads with a multi-category lens; worldbuilding in the truest sense of the word.

Riding the New Waves of Desire

Let’s assume you are part of a luxury fashion brand or group. How do you navigate this situation, assuming you agree with the initial diagnosis?

There is no escaping the fact that your core business is apparel and accessories, so they must be protected, at the very least. But that’s not the heart of this article’s intent. The most critical part is chasing the new currents of desire. 

Take the venture capital approach: scout for opportunities. Hunt for companies you can scale with, and look for opportunities that offer synergies with your current business and core expertise. Or you could simply build something within an existing brand in your portfolio, either “from scratch” or through strategic partnerships.

However, you shouldn’t approach this as a mere portfolio management exercise. You are building a house of brands, a kingdom of dreams, not a pivot table. You should keep the predatory financial management under check (within limits!). Make sure that being exceptional in the customer's eyes is just as crucial as EBITDA. Do not repeat the mistakes of the past by allowing greedflation and cold managerialism to turn the actual product or service into a tired proposition. This is a money play, ultimately, yet it should never feel as such. 

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I will close this by paying one more unneeded homage to the late Giorgio Armani. Much ink has been spilled describing his legacy and genius. A less explored side of it is that Mr. Armani was one of the few true worldbuilders, long before the word became common. His empire didn’t rest solely on clothing. He launched cafés, hotels, and furniture, all of which felt like natural extensions of the same brand, not just a money play. The cut of the jacket, the palette, the whiff of the Orient, and all the other hallmarks of Armani Style had a perfect counterpart across the different categories. The best example, in my mind, is Armani/Fiori, a luxury florist that operates boutiques within the key Armani flagships. Armani/Fiori approaches flower composition as an extension of the Giorgio Armani brand. It’s a very Armani-esque take on Ikebana, in which the individual compositions have the same role as the “fashion looks” on a catwalk. There, your expansion into the business of new aspirations should feel like a bouquet of Armani/Fiori brands. In constant flux, never dull.

_{Unrepentant Marketer, Creative Director and Strategist, throughout his career, Simone Oltolina has held senior roles in large companies, consulting firms and creative agencies alike. In 2016, he founded Merchants of Ideas, a Switzerland-based Brand Consulting firm. He’s also part of Grace Brigade, a new, Milan-headquartered company that straddles the line between eCommerce and Brand Direction.}