Whose brand is it anyway?
Imagine for a moment that you have just completed a ground-breaking two-year study of lemurs’ mating habits in deepest Madagascar. Twenty-four months in camouflage jungle clothing is twenty-three months and several weeks more than any normal person would consider sane and all you want to do is head to your favourite designer to stock up on the shirts and trousers that you’ve been dreaming about for two years. You love them because they might have been designed with you in mind. They fit your body shape perfectly and they look great whether you are giving a TV interview or a lecture for National Geographic.
Unfortunately, as a result of the vagaries of Madagascar’s internet coverage, you have a shock in store – literally. You went looking for Phoebe Philo and found Hedi Slimane instead. High-waisted trousers are out – biker jackets are in. Sorry about that but if you’ve never shopped at Yves St Laurent – sorry, St Laurent – here is your chance. It’s too bad if the clothes are cut to a different body shape. This brand is under new management.
Old Céline
But don’t worry. It will change again. Today, the fashion designer is like a football manager. The owner appoints them in a flurry of publicity and gives them carte blanche to spend money to revive the brand’s prospects. And, when it fails, as it mostly does, the designer exits with a pocket of cash, another is ushered in and the long-suffering fans are left wondering where the brand will head next.
New Celine
As far as the clothes are concerned, it’s no longer evolution, it’s revolution. Every two or three years. All of which raises the question – if the brands don’t care very much about their long-term clients, does it make any sense to be loyal to a brand? This is something I want to explore in the coming days.
