GUCCI

Demna’s debut as creative director of Gucci was one of the most anticipated moments of Milan Fashion Week. Expectations were sky-high and divided: some feared a Balenciaga disguised as Gucci, others were waiting for yet another oversized monogrammed bomber jacket, and others simply wanted to know if the Demna era would truly usher in a new chapter. He responded without pretense, declaring that he doesn’t yet intend to define a complete vision for Gucci, but rather the platform on which to build it. Not to remake the brand, but to rewrite its perception.

To begin, he chose a narrative and theatrical approach: he created a constellation of characters called “The Family,” each of whom embodies a soul of the brand. In the look book, shot by Catherine Opie, we see archetypes that combine irony, Italianness, and personal memories. There’s the Archetype, a monogrammed trunk that recalls the house’s origins in luggage. There’s the Pissed Off, played by Mariacarla Boscono with a 1960s red coat, Bamboo bag, and leather gloves, an expression of strength and sensuality. Then there’s the Countess, the Princess, and the Diva inspired by Sophia Loren, figures who oscillate between glamour, memory, and contemporaneity. The common thread is red, a color linked to a childhood memory of Demna’s, a coat he wasn’t given and which became the starting point for his relationship with fashion.

Alongside the collection, Demna has chosen to transform the debut into a multimedia narrative. Not just clothes, but a photographic lookbook, a short film by Spike Jonze and Halina Reijn starring Demi Moore, and a see-now-buy-now formula that makes the pieces available the next day in ten selected boutiques in Milan, New York, Paris, and Tokyo. It’s an initiative that combines global communication and an immediate experience, moving Gucci from a simple collection to a narrative ecosystem.

The new creative director declares his admiration for Tom Ford, doesn’t deny the influences of McQueen and Margiela, but insists that Gucci today represents a tabula rasa for him. An absolute freedom he describes with a striking metaphor: “This is like my Erasmus year for Gucci.” A way of saying he doesn’t intend to replicate patterns or expectations, but to build from scratch, with the vision of someone who finally feels free to think and create.

Yet, alongside the vision, a crucial question remains. Going to see a Gucci collection means expecting something new, not just mom’s fur coat, grandma’s coat, or dad’s overcoat. Plays on references and characters like “Miss Aperitivo” are entertaining, create a scene, and broaden the narrative, but Gucci already has a consolidated clientele that demands more. It’s not enough to dig into the closet or archive: sooner or later, something truly new must arrive, a vision capable of speaking to the future without dwelling on nostalgia.

Fashion history teaches us that authentic revolutions arise from original ideas. Chanel, Dior, Balenciaga, and Armani have shattered rules and imagery, proposing new, often scandalous yet personal, languages. Today, however, many creative directors prefer to remix established codes, a refined approach that risks homogenizing brands into a single global language.

This is the crux of the matter: are you truly capable of inventing a language that didn’t exist before, capable of carrying the past forward and strengthening the brand’s value? Or will your courage remain supported only by the shadow of the brand that supports you?

GALLERY