CHRISTOPHER BAILEY, 46
PRESIDENT, BURBERRY
Exit Mr Nice Guy. talk to anyone in fashion and they’ll tell you Christopher Bailey doesn’t have any enemies. You can believe it just by looking at him. those cherubic cheeks, that tousled blond hair – his cheeky smile alone could turn prospective mothers- inlaw to jelly.
British designers, such as Alexander McQueen and John Galliano, were a rude and unlovable bunch, but here was someone who always seemed too polite, too well-rounded, almost too, well, decent, for the scorpion-infested world of fashion.
Which made this week’s announcement that he would be departing Burberry – the once fusty heritage brand he transformed into British fashion’s most glamorous export – appear all the more tragic.
But while fashionistas wept into their beautifully tailored trench coats, hardened City observers recognised that his departure had been a long while coming.
For Bailey’s last eight years serve as an Aesop-like fable of ego, power and reckless over-indulgence.
His
turnaround job at Burberry is well-documented. When Bailey arrived 16 years ago – via spells at DKNY and a not particularly happy spell at Gucci, it was a dowdy label favoured by retired colonels and outdoorsy types. Bailey injected some impish glamour into its designs.
Catwalk shows became global events. Gorgeous ad campaigns featuring sienna Miller and Eddie Redmayne were launched, which were unashamedly British.
in 2002 the company went public and – following an unfortunate ‘chav’ interlude – landed in the FtsE 100 in 2009. By now creative director, there was no doubting Bailey’s talent. But much of his success was achieved under the stewardship of Angela Ahrendts, a brilliant operator with the business nous to sell his designs.
When she departed for Apple in 2014, chairman John Peace panicked. Worried he might soon lose the second half of the brand’s dynamic partnership, he allowed Bailey, with zero boardroom experience, to become her successor. shareholders were rightly nervous. it was like Barcelona making their mercurial playmaker Lionel Messi player-manager-cum-president.
Predictably, the share price began to sour, as did earnings – pre-tax profits fell over the next three years, from £444.6m in 2015 to £394.8m for the most recent period.
While Bailey was still happy to take his creative bow at catwalk shows, he went AWOL when the results came in, never once facing City journalists to explain the slump.
His rewards, however, were stratospheric. in 2015 he was paid £8m, putting him on par with the boss of HsBC, which included a ludicrous £440,000 clothing allowance.
the quiet boy from Yorkshire, where he still keeps a home with his husband, Old Etonian actor simon Woods, and their two daughters, had begun to look like one of fashion’s prima donnas.
THE
beginning of the end came last year when Peace recruited Marco Gobbetti, a smooth-talking italian with a proven executive record at Celine, to replace Bailey as chief executive. the ‘sell’ was that Bailey would concentrate on his creative role while Gobbetti would look after the bottom line.
to soften the blow, Bailey was made president, a patronising honorific usually reserved for ageing company dignitaries.
to the fury of shareholders, he was also allowed to keep the same salary. the merry charade was palpable nonsense, of course.
A new boss will always want his own people and, with Burberry struggling to achieve the profit margins being made by rivals LVMH, many feel the brand is crying out for a creative overhaul.
When Gobbetti made soothing noises about the future at July’s AGM, the once golden boy of British tailoring sat silently in the background–for the first time in his dazzling career finding himself in a position where no one in this notoriously fickle business can ever afford to be. He was out of fashion.