Pharrell Williams on his Louis Vuitton debut: ‘This is not a gig. This is a dream’

Pharrell Williams is in the studio. Not the recording studio, which is his usual haunt as a successful recording artist, producer and songwriter, with 13 Grammy Awards and an Academy Award nomination for original song. Rather, he is ensconced in the Parisian design studio of Louis Vuitton — the biggest luxury brand in the world, with an annual turnover in excess of €20bn. In February, Williams was unexpectedly appointed creative director of the brand’s menswear, a post that had been empty since the death of his predecessor, Virgil Abloh, in November 2021. “It’s not lost on me that they have given this position to another American black male. A black man. Another black person. That’s an honour,” Williams says, earnestly. “This is not a job. This is not a gig. This is a dream.”

Williams cuts something of a Dorian Gray figure: he has just turned 50 but looks at least 15 years younger. In person, he is quiet, reserved, speaks precisely, exudes calm. There is, of course, a frenzy around him, an entourage tapping away at phones and computers at a nearby table. There always has been a frenzy around a rock star, and the same is increasingly true of fashion designers, who are becoming modern rock stars in their own right.

That all raises an interesting question around this appointment, and what it means for fashion more widely.

Pharrell Williams is implicitly tasked with producing buzz, grabbing as much attention as possible, in as many different ways as he can

If the nomenclature of choice for the artistic leads of fashion houses has evolved over time from mere designer — denoting one doing the grunt-work of actually scribbling out designs for the clothes — to creative director, meaning someone whose inventive vision can be applied to products and imagery far beyond garments, perhaps the next logical step is producer?

Williams will produce clothes for Vuitton, of course, but he’ll also be producing fashion shows, imagery and content. He’s implicitly tasked with producing buzz, grabbing as much attention as possible, in as many different ways as he can. As he himself states: “This is beyond the clothes.”

When we talk, a week before his debut show at Paris Fashion Week men’s, Williams is wearing a T-shirt printed with the phrase “I Know Nigo”, a reference to the Japanese designer and artistic director of Kenzo, who is close to Williams and was to Abloh too. Gold grills glisten on his teeth. His jeans are a preview of his new Louis Vuitton collection, featuring a blown-up version of the checkerboard “Damier” pattern the luxury brand prints on canvas as an alternative to its monogram.

On a table beside him, is the top-handled handbag Louis Vuitton calls Speedy, a best-selling product, its LV monogram recoloured in a happy shade of yellow. One of these bags is clutched by a pregnant Rihanna alongside matching versions in blue, green and red, in an advertising campaign that Vuitton unconventionally unveiled five days before the brand’s fashion show, where clothing styles and accessories traditionally debut.

The rest of the collection is firmly under wraps until the show, but Williams talks inspiration and ideas. He doesn’t mention athleisure, or suits, or even fabrics — but talks macro, ideas of convenience equalling luxury, as well as individuality and how it’s expressed. “That’s what I really love about Apple, right? It’s the same phone, but everybody holds it different,” he says. A comparison between the behemoths of Vuitton and Apple feels appropriate, with their instantly recognisable products.

Ubiquity and the notion of counterfeiting are things that interest Williams. Indeed, in terms of his own memories of Vuitton, Williams doesn’t reference the brand’s storied, centuries-old past as a deluxe trunk-maker, but rather the rip-off Vuitton logos he saw unconventionally tailored into suits for rappers — such as Jam Master Jay from Run DMC — by the Harlem-based designer Dapper Dan in the 1980s. “That was a big deal, seeing jackets and suits made for your favourite rappers,” says Williams.

No, I didn’t go to Central Saint Martins. I didn’t go to Juilliard for music either

Williams’s appointment as a whole thumbs its nose at convention — to some minds, most pointedly because he has no formal fashion training. Neither did Vivienne Westwood, for example, nor Raf Simons, who is co-creative director of Prada and trained in industrial design, but Williams’s CV seemed to especially rankle those who expected a recruit with a more traditional fashion background. “I’m sure some people were like, ‘Man, he didn’t go to design school’,” allows Williams. “No, I didn’t go to Central Saint Martins. I didn’t go to Juilliard for music either.” He’s wearing large sunglasses, but you sense a raised eyebrow. That said, Williams acknowledges he’s learning on the job here. “I’m always going to be a perpetual student,” he says. “This is the university of fashion.”

Even without that schooling, no one could accuse Williams of being an ingénue when it comes to the fashion industry: he has built two apparel brands, Billionaire Boys Club and Ice Cream, has a skincare line called Humanrace, and during the past two decades has collaborated with a slew of brands, including Adidas, Chanel and indeed Vuitton itself, specifically on jewellery and sunglass designs. The latter were his first foray into the luxury landscape, in 2004, alongside former Vuitton creative director Marc Jacobs, and in collaboration with the aforementioned Nigo.

“The gift that Marc Jacobs gave me to be able to do sunglasses with him for the house was nothing short of game changing, for not only people of my ilk, but also for the fashion industry,” he reasons. “It had never happened before. There had been amazing black designers, a thousand per cent, but there hadn’t been musicians, and specifically the R&B, rap world, being able to come in and not just wear something, not just use something in an editorial, not just be invited to a party to perform, but to come in and actually be a creative. That’s what Marc did.”

It was back in 2008, when Williams launched a jewellery collection named Blason with Vuitton, that he first worked with Pietro Beccari, then executive vice-president of marketing and communication for Louis Vuitton, who was announced as the brand’s new chair and chief executive in January. Beccari came from Christian Dior, where sales quadrupled during his five-year tenure as chief.

The appointment of Williams is a bold opening move. For 18 months following Abloh’s death, his design team had been creating collections in the same spirit, while various designer names were touted as possible replacements, such as London designers Martine Rose and Grace Wales Bonner.

It’s like conducting. This is a big orchestra; a 55-piece orchestra with 55 different heads of the departments and 2,500 soldiers

However, Beccari says, for him the job was always going to go to Williams. I ask about the process of selection. “There was no process at all,” Beccari says on the phone from Athens, where Vuitton has just presented its latest High Jewellery collection. “In the moment I started discussing about my role at Louis Vuitton, one of the main topics that I put on the table with Mr Arnault was to assign to Pharrell this job. He always was in my mind.”

The decision was made in November 2022, Beccari says — with the support of Bernard Arnault and his son, Alexandre, also a friend of Williams. He also says that the Millionaire sunglasses that Williams first designed in 2004 are still one of the brand’s best-sellers.

Beccari won’t be drawn out on the future of Vuitton at this point — the undeniable challenge of continuing to grow a luxury brand that is already the largest in the world. “I came four months ago and I think it’s unfair to ask me now. I will come back to you.” he says. “It’s definitely something that keeps me awake at night: ‘What can I do better?’” He’s evidently hoping Williams’s menswear revamp will form part of the answer.

Outside the windows of Williams’s studio, on the Rue du Pont Neuf, a giant model of the Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama seems to daub the building with her trademark dots. Vuitton has often looked outside the box of fashion for its collaborators — Kusama has created two collections, Jeff Koons one and Takashi Murakami several between 2003 and 2008. “Just as many artists have done collaborations here as there have been designers,” says Williams. “It is a brand that is of the people, truly. I’d often say that about Adidas because I would feel that in my heart, but in a different way, this is a brand of the people.” It’s an unusual thing to say about a luxury goods company, but chimes back to Vuitton’s ubiquity, and its resonance across culture.

The idea also relates to Vuitton’s declaration of itself as a “cultural maison” — a term coined back in February, when Williams’s appointment was announced — a meeting point of different disciplines, including fashion but not limited to it. It has even built a recording studio in Williams’s studio. “So sometimes he composes music, he stops and then he goes to do fittings,” says Beccari. “It’s like conducting,” says Williams of his role. “This is a big orchestra; a 55-piece orchestra with 55 different heads of the departments and 2,500 soldiers.” Vuitton hopes the results will be a hit.

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