Can Brands Have Friends?

Social media has posed a somewhat dystopian question.

“It’s not personal, it’s strictly business,” advises Michael Corleone in a bid to prevent all-out war between the New York mafia families in . Aside from Michael’s pitch-perfect preppy tailoring, this scene has little to no bearing on the world of fashion in 2024, unless you count the questionable line drawn between the personal and business realms.A quick scan of fashion Instagram paints a picture of a friendly utopia where beautiful celebrities and influencers wear the equally beautiful clothes of the designers they go for drinks with, sit front row and sometimes walk for, even have lazy days at art galleries with. This is a far throw from the entirely transparent and transactional “Thanks to my friends over at Shein” captions.

In 2020, luxury consultant and journalist Christopher Morency theorized that fashion brands were becoming universes. That is to say, they were ditching the traditional third parties in favor of doing things their own way: more identity, more self-sufficiency, more of a relationship with their consumers, and, if executed properly, more sales. “The idea that brands need to become universes stems from the desire to create immersive, all-encompassing experiences for consumers. In 2024, fashion isn’t just about the clothes; it’s about the lifestyle, the values, and the culture that the brand represents,” explains Morency. “By cultivating a universe, brands can engage their audience on multiple levels—through visual storytelling, collaborations, and even friendships—creating a loyal community that feels personally invested in the brand’s world.” As brands become increasingly autonomous—personified, even—have they developed the capacity for legitimate friendships?In practice, the dystopian idea of brands with friends doesn’t seem so terrifying. Take Jonathan Anderson, for example. Anderson’s tenure at LOEWE has seen the brand consistently place as one of the hottest brands on the Lyst Index, which takes into account searches on and off-platform, product views, and sales. The designer’s eponymous label is no different, appealing across the board from a seasonal UNIQLO collaboration to outfitting . Of course, the clothes speak for themselves: enigmatic slogan tees like LOEWE’s “I TOLD YA” design are a recipe for virality, while the buttery leather Puzzle Bag is an undeniably beautiful proposition, even before marketing. But to ignore the allure of the world that Anderson has built outside of the clothes is to miss the point. As skilled at creating “It”-guys as he is at designing clothes, Anderson has effectively constructed a friendship group that you want to be part of. The catch? They all wear LOEWE and JW Anderson, and you can’t come in without it.The distinction can sometimes appear unclear as to whether this is a group of ambassadors or friends—or both—but evidence points to actual friendship. In a video interview the two discussed their relationship, prompted by the interviewer asking, “It would be good to get an understanding of how you guys actually know each other, because you’re actually friends, am I right?” O’Connor and Anderson smile wryly, before Anderson explains, “I went to see ; I came out of it and I picked up the phone to our casting director, and I was like, ‘we need to get him in a campaign tomorrow.’”Anderson’s answer, intentionally or not, further shades the gray area between friendship and business: what began as a call for campaign casting has become the noted starting point of a friendship. And all of the trimmings of a real friendship are there. Whether it’s a group trip to an exhibition in the picturesque English countryside or a front-row LOEWE show outing for the whole gang, celebrities like Josh O’Connor, Luca Guadagnino, Taylor Russell, Kit Connor, Mike Faist, and Anthea Hamilton are embedded in the world of the brand as much as they are, seemingly, in the life of the designer himself. O’Connor, in particular, is a regular face on Anderson’s Instagram; more regular than, say, Dior ambassador Lewis Hamilton appears on that of Kim Jones.

Another of the most desirable fashion crowds resides on the Heaven by Marc Jacobs couch. This seemingly endless expanse of crushed blue velvet has become hallowed land, seating the likes of Michael Imperioli, Anna Sui, and a who’s who of Gen-Z social media elite. Are they friends? Does Michael Imperioli know who Nolita Dirtbag is? Whether the answer is yes or no, the goal of the seasonal shoot is clear and successful: The brand is given a face—or twenty, each with personal style, skill, and followers. They act as a blueprint for the Heaven by Marc Jacobs life beyond the viscerally nostalgic clothing. The couch makes sense. Despite the range in backgrounds, each person represents a side of the label. In fact, it makes enough sense that it begs the question: Did the models design their personas for the clothes, or were the clothes designed for the models’ personas? These are not simply models picked from the street for their image, the couch is a physical moodboard. Some of the couch sitters feature in Jacobs’s personal Instagram, too.Take designer Anna Sui, who crops up on Jacobs’s feed eating out at La Grenouille with Jacobs and Sofia Coppola. Here we have one of the best-known high-profile designer-celeb relationships. For 30 years, Jacobs and Coppola have celebrated and starred in each other’s work, with Coppola’s daughter Romy even fronting a Heaven Campaign in a full circle moment back in 2020. In a recent post on Jacobs’s Instagram depicting the two spooning in bed, the designer used the hashtags #chosenfamily and #forevermymuse. On the couch as on LOEWE’s front row, we find a common thread in these relationships: the non-brand entity plays the role of a muse.“The relationship between brands and influencers developed a long time ago. The term ‘influencers’ may be new, but the role they play in the dissemination and validation of trends and brands is not,” journalist and fashion messiah Jeremy Lewis explains over email. “Charles Frederick Worth famously dressed empress Eugénie and that helped establish him as the world’s first couturier. Royalty were the first influencers. They were replaced by elite socialites, and those were replaced by musicians and film stars. Now, social media personalities have joined in but not much has really changed.”

As far back as the 1800s, brand connections have been royalty, socialites, musicians, and film stars. Rarely—if ever—do we see a creative director dressing and platforming their childhood friend who works in public education. It is a symptom, Lewis notes, of the fact that “part of the job of the creative director at a major brand is to create a social ecosystem, a network of famous friends and faces.” A relationship with a renowned artist is likely to bring more value to a brand, both in terms of exposure and inspiration, than one with a small-town accountant who wears a bad suit. In Lewis’s view, these relationships are necessarily transactional; whether that matters is another question entirely. “It doesn’t really matter if their relationships are transactional, even if large sums are being exchanged. What matters is that their relationships are meaningful. And that’s not always something a huge marketing budget can buy.”A mutual sense of inspiration is, arguably, the highest form of friendship and it’s one that’s abundantly clear in that of Wim Wenders and Yohji Yamamoto. This relationship stands out as an example of true creative exchange. Wenders’s respect for Yamamoto’s work is obvious; He describes the first time he wore the designer’s clothing: “From the beginning they were new and old at the same time. It came from further away, from deeper.” Wenders consistently wears Yamamoto, Yamamoto has used Wenders as a runway model, Wenders has made a film about Yamamoto: the two exhibit supreme respect for each other’s skills, they bring meaning to each other’s work, uplifting and enriching it. As Lewis noted, this is not something a marketing budget can buy.Wenders and Yamamoto are just one example in an endless list of relationships that walk the line between friendship and artistic collaboration. Audrey Hepburn once described Hubert de Givenchy as her best friend; he thought of the actress as a sister. Hepburn almost exclusively wore Givenchy gowns in her starring roles and off-screen life alike, and the two collaborated at any given opportunity, raising the profile of both the brand and actress every time. Givenchy would one day carry Hepburn’s casket. Jane Birkin’s relationship with Hermès is, of course, immortalized in the Birkin Bag, one of the purest examples of luxury fashion that exists in 2024. Birkin’s real-world design requests—she asked for an elegant version of a briefcase, in so many words—gave Hermès insight into the world of those who actually wore their accessories. It no doubt helped that the actress’s undeniable beauty and charisma put the label in the spotlight.Madonna and Jean Paul Gaultier’s illustrious careers are so entangled that they can be hard to discuss separately. Madonna’s celebrity brought millions of eyes to Gaultier’s designs, canonizing pieces like the cone bra corset, while Gaultier’s irreverent designs captured Madonna’s creative mind. Gaultier allegedly asked Madonna to marry him three times.

It’s easy to believe that these public alliances are the foundation of a successful brand, and there are, undoubtedly, board rooms the world over that have pinpointed them as the basis of big-name hires. SSENSE head of digital content Steff Yotka’s assertion that fashion’s next great creative director is already in the front row rings true in this regard, but it hasn’t always been the case. Ask any of the leading designers in 2024 who inspired them, and most will mention Martin Margiela. The iconic and mysterious Belgian designer empowered a generation that thrives on rebellious creativity, but Margiela’s biggest rebellion was anonymity. From bejeweled masks to the symbolic four-stitch signature that posits empty space as an equally important force in fashion as a named logo, Margiela is—by and large—a faceless entity. There’s no Instagram to keep up with his life, no public meetups, no athlete endorsements. For Margiela, it was always about the craft and anything else was a distraction. Powerfully original design organically created a universe of its own without the need for blueprints of how to wear it or who it was for.It’s worth remembering that Margiela created one of the world’s most successful and highly respected fashion houses without any of the public accoutrements in a very different time. Social media didn’t exist, traditional fashion media thrived, click-through rate and engagement metrics were nothing more than a prediction reserved for the most cynical sci-fi writer. In 2024, these figures not only exist, but rule the way that brands must act. Morency suggests an equally salient explanation: “These connections highlight the increasingly blurred lines between personal and professional realms, where authenticity is paramount. Consumers today crave genuine connections, and when brands collaborate with close friends, it can signal authenticity and a sense of community.”Like it or not, brands have become a way of life. With a dwindling sense of real-life community, we seek to define ourselves with tribal anchor points in the digital space. Brand friends, muses—whatever we deem them to be—act as a physical manifestation of the brands we ascribe to; a reassuring North Star that, despite the strong currents of trend cycles and cookie-cutter online personas, indicates that you’re swimming in the right direction. In the modern age, we’ve all learned to take what we see on the internet with a pinch of salt. Everybody optimizes the good parts of their lives on social media, and businesses do too. But, if these aspirational lifestyles played out over verified brand accounts don’t overshadow the actual product—if, in the best cases, they actually improve creativity and lead to exciting new eras—then maybe it doesn’t matter if they’re authentic or not.