Unlike other fashion, Paris moves through layers of history and a continuous dialogue between tradition and change. But in today’s challenging and ever-changing economic and political climate, what can we expect from this trendsetting city next?

Worth & Bobergh, Robe à transformation, vers 1866-1868.
Faille verte et tulle de soie. Philadelphia museum of Art, États-Unis d’Amérique.
© 125th Anniversary Acquisition.
Gift of the heirs of Charlotte Hope Binney Tyler Montgomery, 1996, Philadelphia museum of Art.

text by Kim Shveka

As Haute Couture week descends on Paris, the city reasserts its place as the center of gravity in fashion, the stage where elegance is both performed and consumed. The newly opened Charles Worth exhibition, Worth, Inventing Haute Couture, at the Petit Palais deepens this position, reminding us that Paris’s fashion dominance is not merely current. It is layered with history, narratives, and unbreakable foundations that were built since the 15th century. Worth is cited as the father of Haute Couture; he altered the way to view fashion, from practicality to a status of art. He created a system that is defined by exclusivity, artisanal craft, and aesthetic authority that helped distinguish Paris as a city where fashion is understood not only as clothing, but as culture. The aim was not just beauty, but distinction—an aesthetic nationalism that still echoes in the way French fashion is marketed and perceived today. From this foundation, figures like Coco Chanel, Christian Dior, and Yves Saint Laurent built empires not only by introducing new silhouettes but by shifting the paradigm of femininity, luxury, and modernity. The designers didn’t just reflect French culture; they directed it to the rest of the world.

The other fashion capitals each carry their own codes. London is where fashion is pushed to its most conceptual edge. New York delivers commercial clarity and cultural speed. Milan prizes structure, refinement, and a family-driven approach to legacy. But Paris continues to present itself as the stage where it all connects—the final act, the definitive voice. Its claim to be the capital is not just symbolic; it is structural: the power, the history, and the industry still move to the Parisian rhythm. And yet, that same stage is now caught in a cycle that resists disruption.

Alongside the grandeur of the maisons and the ritualistic anticipation of the shows, there’s an unsettling pattern repeating itself in the background. In the span of a few months, many of the major houses in the fashion industry have appointed new creative directors, reshuffling the same names that have long been in circulation. With every season, the game of musical chairs intensifies, and what once felt like an exciting leap now looks more like a closed loop. The question is no longer who gets the chair but whether there are any chairs left for those who have never had the chance to sit in one.

This past year has seen dramatic shifts across the Parisian landscape. After years of dominating Balenciaga with a confrontational, minimal lexicon, Demna left the house and was swiftly appointed at Gucci. In his place, Pierpaolo Piccioli, formerly of Valentino, took over creative direction at Balenciaga, signaling a sharp pivot from shock to softness, from provocation to romantic craft. At Dior, Jonathan Anderson, who had already proven his capacity for reinvention at Loewe, was named creative director for the entire house, including menswear, womenswear, and couture, a role no one has held since Christian Dior himself. Sarah Burton, once the artistic director of Alexander McQueen, made her debut at Givenchy with a recalibrated take on femininity anchored in tailoring and strength. Meanwhile, Glenn Martens, already at Diesel and Y/Project, was announced as the new face of Maison Margiela following John Galliano’s departure, with a highly anticipated debut planned for tomorrow.

Gazette du Bon ton, *Entre chien et loups*, 1912. 24,7 × 19,2 cm.
Palais Galliera, musée de la Mode de la Ville de Paris. CCØ Paris Musées / Palais Galliera, musée de la Mode de la Ville de Paris.

On the surface, this looks like change. But beneath the headlines and the hashtags, it’s the same logic that’s been quietly driving the industry for years. None of these appointments were about discovering an unheard voice or matching a designer with a house based on his aesthetic affiliation; they were about bankability. The equation is simple and cynical: if a designer has already succeeded commercially, they can probably do it again. A recognizable name promises brand buzz, social media traction, and a fast return on investment—all in a fragile market where luxury sales are under pressure and leather goods are expected to do the heavy lifting.

This tendency has made the creative director role more of a function than a vision. It has also made the path to that role narrower than ever. The doors that were once open for young designers with new ideas are now closed by default. It is not that the industry doesn’t want new voices; it simply doesn’t leave them enough space to develop, to fail, or to prove themselves beyond a single collection. With every appointment handed to a designer who has already made it, another seat is taken from someone who hasn’t.

The expectation is that each new director will immediately stabilize revenue, secure brand loyalty, and carry the weight of legacy while still offering something “fresh.” But freshness is difficult to fake, and even harder to maintain when everyone is rotating between the same houses. The result is a kind of creative fatigue. Consumers may still buy, but the cultural impact of each new collection grows weaker.

Worth, Manteau de cour porté par Franca Florio, 1902. Palazzo Pitti / Galleria del Costume , Florence, Italie.
© Museo della Moda e del Costume, Palazzo Pitti, Gallerie degli Uffizi, Florence. Ministero della Cultura.

John Galliano’s recent departure from Maison Margiela deepens this dilemma. His Artisanal Spring 2024 was arguably the most talked about in years, precisely because it evoked a time when a fashion show was true art, when fashion shows aimed to move, not sell. Yet, such significant shows appear so rarely now. And with the latest wave of appointments, they seem even less likely. Why, then, are even the most profitable luxury houses struggling to produce that level of artistry? Can a system so driven by metrics and performance indicators ever make room for true creative vision again? These new directors may bring efficiency, consistency, or even spectacle, but they don’t replace what the industry is truly missing: a sense of forward motion. The biggest luxury brands carry immense responsibility; they dictate trends and set the standard. Yet, they consistently fail to raise the bar, to truly innovate, and to genuinely make us feel something.

This is the paradox Paris finds itself in. The city still holds the world’s attention, but it is no longer opening doors the way it once did. Couture Week is the moment when fashion is meant to step outside of commerce and return to craftsmanship and conceptual purity. But even here, the same logic applies. Trust is placed in those who have already delivered profits, not in those who could shape the future if only given the platform.

What is missing is not talent. It is the willingness to take a risk on someone who is not already on the circuit. The problem is not just that the chairs are constantly changing; it’s that they are being filled in a closed room. The game is being played by the same few, while others wait in the wings for a door that may never open.

As the week unfolds and the collections are unveiled, Paris will once again claim its position at the center of fashion. But unless the industry begins to create space for new perspectives, it risks becoming a hall of mirrors. The reflection is beautiful, but it does not move.