If you ask anyone what country epitomizes luxury fashion, France is always number one. And Paris is the symbol of that luxury. But what most people don’t know is that it wasn’t an accident. It was totally planned.
France was second to Spain during Spain’s Golden Age in the 1500s and early 1600s. They had the gold, the trends and the power. By the year 1661, when King Louis XIV took personal control of France as an adult, he wanted absolute power and control. His famous declaration was: “L’État, c’est moi” — “I am the state.” This meant one thing. He was the government, he was the law, he was the authority, and there was no separation between Louis XIV and the state itself. He appointed Jean-Baptiste Colbert as his finance minister, and tasked him with executing his strategy: make France the dominant power in Europe.
Photo of Jean-Baptiste Colbert - Courtesy of wikipedia
They had a very specific plan: They chose fashion as their weapon. Colbert famously said: “Fashion is to France what gold mines are to Spain.” Here’s how they executed it.
Colbert set up and regulated a guild system. It was a network of craftspeople organized by trade, each maintaining strict quality standards. This boosted luxury manufacturing.
He established royal manufactories. These state-backed factories, like the Gobelins in 1662, produced luxury goods for the crown and the court.
He actively recruited foreign artisans and brought them to France (also known as immigrants), paying them to teach French workers their skills.
He imposed high protective tariffs on imports and outlawed the import of certain luxury fabrics from outside France, forcing the wealthy to buy French-made products.
Then came the ultimate power move: Colbert mandated that new fashions and textiles be designed and produced twice a year, creating summer and winter collections. This forced people to buy new clothes constantly.
Meanwhile, Louis XIV created Versailles as the epicenter of power and culture. He created a strict court dress code: exquisite, exclusive and specific. To be part of his court, you had to dress a certain way. If you didn’t dress the part, you had no access, and you couldn’t be part of the club. Aristocrats competed to be in his court and they went into debt buying these clothes to stay in the game. Sound familiar?
Louis controlled them through fashion and economics and debt was the leash. Fashion became a weapon. An incredibly powerful one. It looked like vanity but it was actually a strategy for dominance.
Louis XIV and Jean-Baptiste Colbert engineered a complete economic and political power shift using fashion, guilds, manufacturing and enforced demand. Within two decades, they accomplished their goal: France became the dominant power in Europe.
France’s Strategy Never Stopped. It Just Scaled
Photo of The Palace of Versailles - Courtesy of Wikipedia
Now let’s fast forward about three hundred years to the mid-nineteen hundreds. This was the era of Dior and they did groundbreaking work and were a figure of tremendous cultural significance. France was gaining remarkable attention and prestige for fashion. And rightfully so. But when Dior couldn’t keep the doors open, the French government stepped in and prevented it from closing. They understood something critical: Dior’s company sales are nothing in comparison to what it means to have a company like Dior operating at the highest level of culture and commerce.
The revenue doesn’t matter. The symbol does.
Today, large corporations operate massive empires with thousands of employees. But here’s the question: how do you maintain the purity and intention of a brand when you’re operating at that scale?
Look, I’m not a branding wizard. I’m struggling just trying to run three passion projects: Tom’s Sons, Pierre Labiche, and Project Golden Bear. And they’re all in the same location.
I can’t imagine running a large conglomerate with all these different businesses spread across factories, retail, and locations all around the world. How do you keep the same level of intention and care?
When you’re running that large of a conglomerate, something has to give. Something gets diluted. Every time you hire someone, you’re that much further away from the source.
The same strategy that Louis XIV created is still being used today in the world. Both scale to the point where the artisan and the consumer become further apart from each other.
There’s an old saying: the old way was the right way. That totally applies to craftsmanship and fashion. Back in the day, there was a very close relationship between the craftsman and the consumer. They weren’t far removed from each other. There was intentionality. The maker made it for a specific person. That piece embodied a piece of the craftsman. It was made well. Made with care. Worthy of being kept. Worthy of being repaired.
When I know who is wearing my pleats, when I’m crafting with a specific person in mind and my intention goes into the work, I’m making this with love and attention for them. And when that happens, they receive something more significant than just an object. Something becomes imbued in the physical matter itself. That’s why people keep things. That’s why they hold onto pieces. Because of the emotional connection. Because of the feeling they sense from it.
Just like communication requires intention to truly connect, so does a product. There needs to be a real connection between maker and wearer. Otherwise, it’s just stuff. Without intention and without pride in the work, the product isn’t worth making. It isn’t worth keeping. And usually, it isn’t worth fixing.
The answer is to think small. Small creators create major effects.
When you know who your client is, when intention guides every decision, when the maker and wearer are connected — that’s when something real happens. That’s when a garment becomes something more than fabric.
My family has made many types of clothing over the last hundred years. But when a person chooses me to make their clothing for a special occasion, especially something really significant like a wedding dress, that is the ultimate compliment. A wedding dress is its own entity. It’s a symbol of union, love and family. That physical symbol gets passed down from generation to generation. What an honor it is for me to become part of the story of a family. And when they choose me to make their wedding dress, that dress becomes part of their family’s legacy.
And then they become part of mine.