Daddy's boys and the crisis of the work ethic

I'm sure we've all participated in that recurring—almost mantra-like—conversation where someone laments that "the culture of hard work is being lost." This diagnosis is usually accompanied by additions like "young people no longer get involved or committed," "nowadays they want everything easy and immediate," "they don't know what it means to earn a living through hard work"...

This idea of hard work took root in the post-war and developmental generations of the 1960s and 70s, those who grew up with phrases like "nobody's going to give you anything for free" or "you have to work and study to get ahead" practically etched in their minds. With the return of democracy and the consolidation of the welfare state, this discourse became institutionalized, and Catalan schools championed "educating in the culture of hard work." This value was linked to progress and freedom and was presented as the antidote to the "culture of favoritism" or "patronage." Even today, Pep Guardiola's words resonate like an echo of that spirit: "If we get up early, and without recriminations, we are an unstoppable country."

Well, lately, the fashion world has given us numerous examples confirming the substitution of a family name for hard work, as is the case with Jaden Smith's appointment as creative director of Christian Louboutin. For those unfamiliar with the name: with no formal training or work experience in fashion, Jaden is an actor and rapper, the son of Will Smith, and everything suggests that his last name has outweighed his talent. Is this the exception that proves the rule? Not at all. Singer Pharrell Williams has already taken on the role of menswear creative director at Louis Vuitton, rapper Kanye West has collaborated with brands like Louis Vuitton (directed by Marc Jacobs) and Adidas, and singer Rihanna saw her luxury brand Fenty acquired by the LVMH group. This trend shows no signs of slowing down, as each season new figures from the music and social media industries assume creative roles at major fashion houses, solidifying this alliance between fame and luxury. Another form of this intrusion involves well-to-do children with marketing backgrounds but no fashion experience who find success with brands where the only creative merit is knowing how to print a word on a t-shirt or sweatshirt, as is the case with the famous millennial brand Nude Project. At the same time, many Spanish brands have emerged, run by women from wealthy families, reinforcing the idea that without a prominent family line, breaking into the fashion world is almost an impossible feat.

While the culture of hard work once seemed a feasible reality, it has since been revealed as the carrot dangling in front of the donkey: a smokescreen that tricked the working class into striving harder without ever seeing the full promises fulfilled. Like the American Dream, meritocracy, theoretically based on equal opportunities, only serves to blame the individual for failures. Didn't succeed? It's your fault for not trying hard enough. Meanwhile, the structures of inequality remain firmly entrenched, invisible, and unaltered. Currently, in fashion, we are witnessing a clear shift from professional meritocracy to a meritocracy of influence. Luxury brands seek figures with significant symbolic capital, even if they don't come from a design background, thus replacing technical talent with a family name.

So, what should I say to fashion design students, who are about to embark on a demanding and rigorous degree program requiring extensive technical knowledge in pattern making, fabrics, sewing, computer skills, design, history, and more, as a prelude to an uncertain and hostile job market? Frankly, I can't bring myself to criticize their lack of effort. If I encourage them to get up early, they'll simply get up early. Period. And meanwhile, someone else, with connections and an alarm clock that doesn't go off before noon, will have snatched up their career opportunities.