Demna’s Gucci runway debut unfolded at the Palazzo delle Scintille, which was transformed into a museum-like space, adorned with travertine walls and classical statues scanned from works in Uffizi Galleries. The setting established a setting that emphasized Gucci’s Italian historical and cultural roots while also positioning the show as the beginning of a new chapter for the brand. The runway’s structure heightened the sense of a cultural spectacle: models emerged one by one under dramatic spotlights, a staging that critics likened to Tom Ford’s theatrical Gucci shows of the 1990s. Demna eschewed the usual fast-paced parade, allowing each look to unfold deliberately so that every model became a character, defined as much by attitude and presence as by the clothing itself: skin-tight muscle tees, clingy and almost weightless fabrics accentuated the models’ silhouettes, directing attention to their bodies, postures and attitudes.
As fashion magazine Harper’s Bazaar Singapore said, “the body is back, and it is not hiding.”
And that felt intentional. The current fashion landscape is saturated with forcing aesthetics, especially evident in Gucci’s revenue drastically decreasing with hiring creative director Sabato De Sarno, credited to his attempt to pivot Gucci into a “quiet luxury” brand. Demna appeared to reverse the relationship. The ready-to-wear collection’s garments functioned almost as a second skin, shaped by whoever inhabited them. In this sense, the show was not about what Gucci looks like, but about how Gucci is worn — and ultimately how it is felt.
“I don’t want it to be intellectual, but I want Gucci to be a feeling,” Demna wrote in a letter before the debut according to Hypebeast.
The tight silhouettes and sculpted shapes emphasizing individuality rather than anonymity was reinforced by Demna’s casting choices. Alongside established runway icons, like Kate Moss and Karlie Loss, were figures from internet and music culture, including rapper Fakemink. Models even paused mid-walk to check their phones: subtly dissolving the line between the glamourous runway pedestal and the common, everyday rhythms of life. The attitude underscored Demna’s vision of Gucci not as a static luxury aesthetic, but a living cultural identity.
“Gucci is a superbrand that is as much about pragmatic products as it is about emotion,” Demna remarked ahead of the show. In essence, Gucci’s identity has always been shaped not only by its designers, but also by who wears it: musicians, celebrities and everyday individuals who continually redefine the brand.
Of course, not everyone was convinced. Many felt that the collection felt boring and static. The New York Times argued that the show leaned overly on nostalgia, particularly referencing the era when Tom Ford turned Gucci into a global fashion force in the 1990s. The collection “felt calculated rather than exciting,” relying on familiar symbols of Gucci’s past, such as overt sexuality and the return of Kate Moss to the Runway, according to that critique.
And to be fair, that critique isn’t entirely wrong. Demna clearly knows the mythology of Gucci and understands that the Tom Ford era remains one of the brand’s most powerful cultural moments. But “playing it safe” with referencing history may not simply be nostalgia, it might be strategic. If Tom Ford’s Guc- ci defined the brand’s identity through sexuality and attitude, Demna’s version reframes those same ideas for a digital generation shaped by social media, consistent access to celebrity culture and internet visibility, manifested in the name of the collection: “Generation Gucci.”
In that sense, Demna’s show was not simply about reviving the past or invent- ing something entirely new. The plain, minimalist, stripped-back clothing is a recognition of how Gucci already lives within culture and has long been part of defining cultural moments. From the creation of the Flora scarf for Grace Kelly, the Jackie bag famously carried by Jackie Kennedy and Dapper Dan’s remixing of Gucci logos in Harlem’s 1980s hip-hop scene, Gucci continues to appear in video games, rap lyrics, Insta- gram feeds and street style long before it reaches the runway. As Harper’s Bazaar Singapore put it, Demna operates “like a cultural antenna,” sensing what already exists in the world and amplifying it.
The most compelling thing about Demna’s debut isn’t whether the clothes themselves are revolutionary. It’s the argument behind them: that fashion doesn’t gain meaning from design alone. Instead its meaning emerg- es through the people who wear it, reinterpret it and turn it into culture.