The LVMH Prize for Young Designers, supposedly the embodiment of fashion’s future, has it not become just another showcase for the gigantism of an empire obsessed with admiring itself in its own mirrors?

Yes, it celebrates “emerging talent,” but through carefully staged ceremonies, parachuted celebrity ambassadors, and a self-congratulatory luxury industry handing out neatly packaged checks like tossing a few crumbs of caviar to hungry birds.

Soshi Otsuki, awarded by the Fondation Louis Vuitton, becomes the new flag-bearer of this liturgy of “controlled innovation.”
We hear of coaching by LVMH experts but what kind of coaching? The kind that molds designers into Arnault tiny houses, primed to manufacture profitable dreams?

The group will provide the knowledge: “Sustainability, communication, copyright law”a ready-to-wear kit for the fashion entrepreneur, wrapped in corporate morality.As for the jury, it is nothing more than a pantheon of Bernard Arnault’s loyal lieutenants, while he himself hovers like an ex machina above this gilded fairground, somewhere between two Venetian screenings.

Of course, this prize did indeed launch the designer Jacquemus, who finished last but Karl, created an award just for him and he will later give birth to the “Chiquito” for the Bimbos.
But let’s not fool ourselves: talents are not “discovered,” they are formatted to fit into the grand circuit of the industry, where creativity is merely an adjustment in the pursuit of growth.

This contest is a play where luxury pretends to be philanthropic, all the while ensuring that fashion’s future will be written again and always under its seal.A masked ball, where behind the winners’ smiles glitters the invisible, yet crushingly heavy, hand of the Lord.

FM