This story is part of ‘Debunking the Dream: Part Two’, a series based on an exclusive survey of 300 fashion designers, examining how they are navigating luxury's current crisis and how the industry might emerge stronger from it. Read it all here.
It’s been a bad year for independent designers. Since June 2023, multiple cult brands have entered administration or filed for bankruptcy: Christopher Kane, Dion Lee, The Vampire’s Wife, Interior and Calvin Luo, to name just a few. Roksanda filed a notice of intent to appoint administrators but was saved by The Brand Group. And many more had to course-correct to stay afloat, including New York brands Mia Vesper and Puppets and Puppets.
They have had a lot to contend with. Bricks-and-mortar wholesalers were already struggling pre-pandemic, but the e-commerce bubble then burst, leaving independent brands with unpaid invoices and a decimated retail presence. In the meantime, geopolitical tensions and macroeconomic headwinds wreaked havoc on shipping routes and pushed up prices. Brands have had to navigate raw material shortages, inflation, a cost of living crisis and an energy crisis — all at once.
“This is probably the most challenging moment for fashion brands, especially emerging designers, in the 15 years I have been in this role,” says Stavros Karelis, founder and buying director of London-based concept store Machine-A. “There are a lot of global factors affecting the market that are out of our control, but [it’s] also a failure of the fashion system. In every step, there was a push for more, which pushed people into extreme fatigue and a situation where the quality or uniqueness of products wasn’t reflected in the ever-higher prices. The solution is crazy non-stop discounting, and there’s no profitability in that. It is unmanageable and unsustainable as a business model.”
Short-term support systems for independent designers are more visible than ever, but that support is under scrutiny and may require reform. “There are a lot of opportunities to start businesses, but to actually sustain them and to build profitable long-term businesses for the future is very challenging,” acknowledges Caroline Rush, outgoing CEO of the British Fashion Council (BFC).
In a period of collapse, how should the independent designer ecosystem rebuild? The resounding answer from experts and survey respondents alike is that we need new business models and a new understanding of what it means to be an independent designer.
More than a designer
Running an independent brand today is like “being a musician and also owning the record label”, says KidSuper founder Colm Dillane. “To survive now, you have to be multifaceted. You have to be incredibly self-aware, knowing this is just as much a business as it is a creative project. You spend a lot of time comparing yourself to these big brands, but you don’t have the resources to survive the way they do. One side has a million-dollar budget, and the other has nothing.”
Independent brands have to offer product that is truly different, experts say. “If you really want to just design, there are plenty of good brands to design for. But if you want your own brand, the customer wants to buy into something,” says luxury consultant Christopher Morency, former chief brand officer of Vanguards Group.
It’s a more complex world than the fashion industry of the past. “When we started our business, the magazines were the gatekeepers and the arbiters of the fashion world, together with powerful buyers,” says Inacio Ribeiro, the Brazilian co-founder of London-based brand Clements Ribeiro, which has been producing its signature colourful cashmere since the 1990s. “It would seem very elitist now, but it was a much simpler formula. You just had to impress a limited number of people. Now, things feel more democratic, but I don’t think they are.”
Although 51 per cent of survey respondents express an interest in starting their own brand, many say they felt underprepared after graduating from fashion school. There are some lessons you can’t learn in a classroom, says Edward Crutchley, who was the first designer to win two International Woolmark Prizes and is currently design director at Dior, alongside running his own brand. “I cannot imagine trying to set up a brand without some sort of industry experience. Frankly, I think it is quite irresponsible to push designers to do so straight from university. A six-month work experience placement is not enough to learn how to effectively manage a team and a full product line. The idea of a chef getting a Michelin star six months after leaving catering college is ludicrous. Why do we expect that of designers?”
The industry has changed — aspirations need to as well
The challenge for fashion educators is balancing encouragement with realism. “It’s not about destroying dreams; it’s about accepting the fact that students might have a completely naive, ill-informed dream that they want to be a creative director,” says Fabio Piras, who replaced Louise Wilson as director of Central Saint Martins’s MA fashion course in 2014. “You have to prepare the students to work in the industry, but they are entering an industry they know is dysfunctional, so you need to question how they are going to operate within it. The fact that the hours are completely unreasonable, your dedication will be only to your job, you will have no weekends or evenings — that has been part of the fashion folklore forever. It takes a lot of courage and bravery [to admit that you no longer want that lifestyle].”
Among survey respondents, financial woes were one of the main reasons designers eventually shuttered their own brands.
Hitting conventional career milestones as an independent designer costs money. Over two-thirds (69 per cent) of survey respondents who applied for an incubator or prize spent up to £5,000. A further 16 per cent spent between £5,000 and £10,000, and 14 per cent spent more than £10,000. However, these costs were often indirect, including staging fashion shows to raise their profiles or completing collections to flesh out their portfolios. Of the brand owners surveyed, 61 per cent do not participate in fashion weeks. Among total respondents, 11 per cent spend less than £10,000 per show; 12 per cent spend between £10,000 and £25,000; 5 per cent spend £25,000 to £50,000; 2 per cent spend £50,000 to £100,000; and 1 per cent spend between £100,000 and £300,000, and £300,000 and 500,000, respectively.
Whether brands show or not, fashion weeks remain an important touchstone for designers, says Pascal Morand, executive president of Paris Fashion Week organiser Fédération de la Haute Couture et de la Mode (FHCM). Host cities become focal points for press, buyers and talent. “This creates an incomparable environment where every designer, whether emerging or established, can benefit from exceptional visibility.”
Eponymous designer Chet Lo says being on the calendar legitimises a brand, though he’s still figuring out whether it’s worth the payout every time. “It’s so expensive, and if I lose money, I’m screwed,” Lo says; despite receiving a free show space at London Fashion Week through the BFC’s Newgen programme, which cuts his costs by up to 75 per cent, he estimates. The hiring of models, hair and makeup artists, and stylists, alongside additional costs, still sets the brand back between £20,000 and £25,000.
Around half (52 per cent) of survey respondents say fashion shows are a worthwhile investment, 22 per cent say they are not, while the remaining 26 per cent are unsure. Luar chief brand officer Adrián Díaz considers fashion shows both the brand’s “biggest risk” — because they hit cash flow and production — and its core marketing tool. Identifying a partner to shoulder the cost helps to de-risk: this season, Luar partnered with American Express on a limited-edition Amex gold version of its bestselling Ana bag, featuring bag charms that represent Amex cardholder benefits. Elsewhere, Brandon Maxwell linked up with Walmart, and Chopova Lowena partnered with Hellmann’s mayonnaise.
.jpg)
An obsession with external perceptions can cost a young designer their business. Before stepping onto the show cycle — which rarely lets up — brands must have the infrastructure in place to make the most of the visibility, says 1 Granary founder and editor-in-chief Olya Kuryshchuk. “If you don’t have time to set up your company and produce a quality product, then you don’t have time to show. You’re just showing [press and buyers] that your work is bad.”
It’s hard to sit outside the traditional fashion system. In many schemes, financial support is contingent on designers showing at fashion weeks, with some incubation schemes increasingly aware that this weighs on designers. “We’d rather not pressure anyone to run before they can walk,” says Lulu Kennedy, founder of non-profit talent incubator Fashion East. “For example, when Per Götesson was nearly but not quite ready for the catwalk, we invented a hybrid presentation that worked brilliantly as a stepping stone. We try to give reality checks without killing their vibe. It’s all about keeping the energy positive.”
Learning to balance the creative and commercial
Brands that are explicitly commercial and may sidestep the traditional parameters of success don’t receive the same recognition, says Morency. “I’ve never understood why Corteiz, Cole Buxton or Gymshark don’t get as much attention as Central Saint Martins or Parsons graduates, even though they have 10 times the revenues. Look at the way people spoke about [Off-White’s] Virgil Abloh, debating whether or not he was real fashion. We still haven’t learnt to accept that as worthy of success.”
Good commercial brands stay focused, says Hyrum Cook, founder of activewear brand Adanola, which just surpassed £50 million in revenue and now has a team of over 70 people. “Staying disciplined is crucial. It’s easy to get caught up in new ideas and concepts as the only mechanic to drive growth and attract new audiences.”
Díaz suggests that creatives maintain their risk-taking creative spirit but “think about selling that creativity”, too. Dillane says this approach is his “secret sauce” with KidSuper. “I find the KidSuper in everything I do. Because of that, I can do music videos, art shows, album art, collaborations with clothing and footwear brands,” he explains. “The fan base sees it as us promoting this optimism, mischievousness and creativity, which are the pillars of the KidSuper brand.”
Another option in brand-building is to reframe success: replace recognition for a star designer with the broader goal of achieving financial sustainability for the entire supply chain, says Aurora James, founder of Brother Vellies and 15 Percent Pledge, whose business model seeks to uplift artisans.
Choosing the right business model
Which business model suits your brand? Copenhagen’s Astrid Andersen learnt lessons from her first industry venture and just launched her latest brand Stel after a three-year hiatus to have a family. Her model incorporates more intentional wholesale partnerships as well as a direct-to-consumer see-now, buy-now approach based on drops that create a capsule wardrobe over time. “Nothing is promised, even if you follow that structure perfectly, so you have to follow your own intuition and listen to the person you want to sell to,” she says. “Stepping away from seasons was a big freedom.”
Many emerging brands become overly reliant on wholesale. Lo describes working with wholesale retailers as “heroin” for emerging brands because of the consistency of cash influx. “I always advise brands not to put all of their eggs in one basket,” says Ida Petersson, former Browns buying director and co-founder of brand strategy and creative agency Good Eggs. “We have seen the impact of Matches closing, and I’ve heard of other retailers reducing their budgets by up to 80 per cent in the past 18 months. That can put brands into administration.”
Of the brand owners surveyed, 65 per cent sell direct-to-consumer, while just 1 per cent sell exclusively through wholesale channels, and 34 per cent do a mix of both. Two-thirds of brands that use the wholesale channel say they have experienced late or missed payments. Many respondents call for better payment terms with wholesale accounts. “One of the main reasons I do direct-to-consumer now is so I can offer a better price,” says Ribeiro of Clements Ribeiro. “It’s impossible for small brands to compete with luxury now.”
What does a better relationship between retailers and emerging brands look like? Machine-A is one of the retailers trying to model a different way of engaging with emerging designers, correcting some of the common pitfalls in the wholesale system, says Karelis. This includes not demanding a minimum number of SKUs or forcing designers to expand their collections and invest in more expensive samples; offering designers the chance to road test a partnership before committing to seasonal buys; and giving them the option to carry out more ad-hoc activations, such as one-off capsules, experiential retail events or in-store services like customisation or upcycling. “Trial and error is very important in retail,” he explains.
Experts agree that the gold standard for a great wholesaler is a partner who offers emerging designers at least 30 per cent payment upfront to fund production costs, commits to more than one season of orders (even if they aren’t an immediate success), and strives to avoid seller returns, which put undue risk on independent labels.
Rethinking the relationship between wholesalers and independent brands gives designers the opportunity to rework their pricing, says Lo. Lo sells products to wholesalers for approximately double the material and production costs, and wholesalers tend to multiply that figure by 2.7 to arrive at a retail price. “The group of people that have £900 to spend on trousers is small, and they’re going to luxury brands. If you’re lucky, they might experiment and come to you, but really, the price point needs to change,” says Morency. As it stands, many consumers wait for sales periods to purchase, but it’s tough to cut costs on small-scale production.
Many designers who try to explore a different business model struggle because the fashion industry’s infrastructure is not accommodating for deviations from the norm. “The system today is a slave to itself,” says talent scout Sara Sozzani Maino.
.jpg)
Building business literacy
James established Brother Vellies at a New York flea market with just $3,500. When the business started to take off, she needed a cash injection to fund a wholesale partnership — and fast. She took out a $70,000 pre-production financing loan with a lot of strings attached. “It cost me a seven-figure sum to pay that loan back. I didn’t see a penny of wholesale income for six years. It was a nightmare.”
Several survey respondents took out loans to cover manufacturing costs before stockists paid them and to plug the gaps before they could access equity investment or more legitimate bank loans. One recalls working on a made-to-order model to take no chances with production. Another says they crowdsourced funds from family and friends before accessing funding through a mentorship programme.
Startup designers often invest personally. Among survey respondents who currently run their own brands or have previously, 83 per cent used their personal finances to seed the business. Some 52 per cent say they are not profitable yet, while 10 per cent say they were profitable from day one, and 13 per cent reached profitability within one to three years.
The lack of capital available to designers — especially people of colour and women — makes them vulnerable to predatory loans, says James. “If you’re taking on institutional capital, there is an expectation of a liquidity event. When you talk to designers, they all want an investor, but they don’t want to sell their business. Fashion is really dependent on angel investors and predatory capital sources, and I think that is significantly hindering growth,” she explains. James recently added Parity Collective to her portfolio, an investment initiative focused on funding founders of colour across the consumer goods sector.
For Andersen, working with her business partner Anders Freund has freed up time — which is a rare commodity for designers. “Any creative that has independently run a brand knows that you only get to be creative 5 per cent of the time, and the rest is managing the brand. The brand becomes something that pulls you away from the creative journey,” she says. “Now, I still worry about everything, but I don’t have to be the one that fixes it. I can reach out to someone in-house, and they can help me. It doesn’t have to be my headache.”
Read ‘Debunking the Dream: Part One, — last year’s series on achieving success and avoiding burnout — here.
This content has been made open access. To enjoy unlimited access to Member-only reporting and insights, our TikTok and Beauty Trend Trackers, weekly Technology, Beauty and Sustainability Edits and exclusive event invitations, sign up for Membership here.
