Redefining Luxury in a Multi-Polar World (Part 2)

Can “Made in USA” Be a Viable Future for Luxury Fashion?

By Ali Khan

This is a transcript of the presentation from the Design Wisconsin Conference. (May 29-30, 2026).


Hi everyone—thank you for having me.

Last year at the Monaco Luxury Symposium, I presented a paper on the state of global luxury design. I argued that the industry is not facing a simple downturn from economic headwinds or a sluggish Chinese market. It is facing an existential crisis of its own making: a betrayal of design and craftsmanship at its core, replaced by financialization and the tyranny of short-term growth.

Today, I want to build on that diagnosis. I want to talk about a specific, and some might say improbable, future for luxury design: "Made in USA." I will explore its viability, its strategic direction, and the very real opportunity for long-term success. This examination moves beyond nostalgia or protectionism. The goal is to identify a genuine opening in a multipolar world.

To frame this discussion, let me begin with three data points:

One. The European luxury conglomerates that have defined the industry for decades are showing deep structural cracks. LVMH and Kering together reported over €15 billion in combined debt as of 2024, while continuing to lose cultural relevance among younger consumers.

Two. The United States government has committed over $50 billion through the CHIPS Act and the Inflation Reduction Act to reshore domestic manufacturing. Yet fashion and textiles have been almost entirely left out of this conversation. This is a missed opportunity.

Three. Consumer demand for transparency and authenticity is at an all-time high. A 2024 McKinsey study found that 65% of luxury consumers now say "country of origin" matters more to them than brand name alone.

These three forces—European decline, American industrial policy, and shifting consumer values—create the perfect conditions for a new chapter in luxury history.

The Cracks in the European Monolith

For decades, "European Luxury"—specifically French and Italian—has been the undisputed gold standard. To question it was almost heresy.

But that monolith is starting to crumble. The reasons go far beyond geopolitics. Yes, there are constraints in China and economic turbulence. But the primary disease is internal. As I showed last year, the numbers are damning:
  • 72% of LVMH and Kering brands now fail Kapferer's established luxury principles. They are luxury in price tag only.
  • Creative director tenure has collapsed from over 7 years in the 1990s to just 2.3 years today. You cannot build a coherent design vision in two years.
  • The hollowing out of craft is accelerating. France has lost 28% of its luxury artisan workforce since 2000. Italy's leather industry has shrunk by 18% since 2018, with 40% of tanneries closing.
  • Kering issued a profit warning in 2024 citing a 20% drop in Gucci's revenue, driven largely by declining brand perception in Asia and Europe alike.

These numbers point to a single conclusion: the European conglomerates are surrendering cultural capital for quarterly profits. They are trapped by their own scale, forced to chase volume, archive reissues, and celebrity collaborations instead of investing in the generational endeavor of true craftsmanship.

Take the celebrity strategy as an example. In 2023 alone, luxury brands spent an estimated $1.2 billion on K-pop ambassadors like Blackpink and BTS members. Yet McKinsey found that 92% of Korean consumers see these partnerships as purely "transactional." No lasting brand loyalty is being built. This is the echo chamber of praise I have written about elsewhere—the media celebrates these partnerships while the consumers see them for what they are.

Reinvesting in design and craft is a generational endeavor. It requires patient capital and, crucially, governmental support. And this is where the United States has a surprising, timely opportunity.

The US Challenge: It's Not a Skills Problem, It's a Mindset Problem

The common narrative is that the United States cannot do luxury. America is often described as a nation of "premium" or "accessible" goods. The country's strength is branding and volume, not the atelier. There is some truth to this. For years, the United States carved its niche in marketing innovation, setting brand identity at the center of the business and maximizing growth through licensing.

But here is the critical point: the challenges facing US luxury design are not primarily a lack of talent or infrastructure. It is a mindset problem. A deep-seated instinct to measure success in units sold, revenue, and stock price. A belief that a successful brand must inevitably go public and scale.

The graveyard of brands that followed this path is instructive. Consider:
  • Eddie Bauer filed for bankruptcy in 2020 and again reorganized in 2024, unable to compete on either price or meaning.
  • Saks Fifth Avenue's parent company, HBC, has been struggling with $3.1 billion in debt, resorting to multiple rounds of layoffs and store closures.
  • Macy's announced the closure of 150 underperforming stores in 2024, after years of turnarounds that went nowhere because the fundamental mindset never changed.
  • Gap Inc. has cycled through four CEOs since 2020, each promising a new strategy, yet the brand continues to lose cultural relevance.

What worked for a unipolar, financialization-first world no longer works. The values of the global consumer have changed. A 2024 Boston Consulting Group study found that 73% of luxury consumers under 40 prioritize "authenticity" over "heritage." They want to know who made their product, where, and under what conditions.

True luxury design businesses are not businesses of scale. They take shape in small ateliers, nimble and focused. The United States is perfectly positioned to build this new model—but only with a fundamental shift in mindset.


True luxury design businesses are not businesses of scale. They take shape in small ateliers, nimble and focused. The United States is perfectly positioned to build this new model—but only with a fundamental shift in mindset.

Two Case Studies: The Unexpected Blueprint for American Luxury

To make this argument concrete, let me introduce two very different American brands. They are not from New York or Los Angeles. They are from the Midwest. They are proudly, painstakingly Made in USA. And they hold the seed of a future Hermès or Louis Vuitton.

The only thing they have in common, besides their origin, is that they constantly struggle to maintain their domestic manufacturing while remaining profitable. Their struggle points to a larger opportunity—not about forcing these companies into a luxury path, but about recognizing the potential that exists and, more importantly, the lack of openness to change that handicaps US brands in catering to shifting global markets and dynamics.

Case Study 1: Saint Croix

Based in Minnesota, Saint Croix is an 110-year-old knitwear brand. For generations, they have produced fine sweaters and accessories known for quality and durability. They are not a fashion brand. They are a manufacturing brand with deep, tacit knowledge of fibers, knitting techniques, and construction.

To understand their potential, look at Brunello Cucinelli. The Italian brand transformed a small Umbrian village into a luxury cashmere destination, generating €1.1 billion in revenue in 2023 while maintaining full vertical integration and artisanal production. Even after going public it still maintains a 100% ‘Made in Italy’ principle and more importantly resisting conglomerate take over. Cucinelli proved that patient capital, regional pride, and uncompromising quality can build a global luxury house without financialization

Saint Croix has the same raw materials: heritage, craft, and location. What they lack is the design-led cultural translation to move from "heritage workwear" to "luxury house." With the right creative direction and a strategic shift away from wholesale volume, a brand like Saint Croix could follow a similar path.

Case Study 2: Cole-Tac

The second example is unexpected. Cole-Tac is a tactical gear manufacturer based in North Dakota (a Stout alum, by the way). They make pouches, bags, and accessories for shooting enthusiasts and military professionals. Every product is cut and sewn in the USA, using American-sourced materials like Cordura.

Independent reviews consistently rate Cole-Tac's durability above competitors like 5.11 Tactical or Condor, many of which manufacture overseas. Their quality standards are obsessive. Their designs solve real-world problems for a demanding user base. They succeed on reputation and durability alone, with minimal marketing.

Consider a parallel example from outside fashion. Filson, the Seattle-based outfitter, built a loyal global following by refusing to compromise on its rugged, utilitarian identity. Filson's bags and jackets command premium prices not because of advertising but because of proven reliability. However, Filson has at times struggled with the tension between scaling production and maintaining quality—a tension Cole-Tac currently navigates daily.

The raw DNA of a utilitarian luxury house exists within Cole-Tac. What is missing is the translation from "functional gear" to "functional luxury." No industry adds profit margins like luxury, given the right mix of quality, design innovation, exclusivity, and brand appeal.

Both Saint Croix and Cole-Tac possess what most European conglomerates have lost: a genuine, unbreakable connection to material culture. And nowhere in the United States is that culture more practiced and understood than in the places that make things—the Midwest and the heartland.

But here is the distinction I want to emphasize: I am not suggesting we force Saint Croix or Cole-Tac into a luxury path they do not wish to follow. That would be a mistake. Rather, I am pointing to the potential that exists in how luxury brands truly develop—through deep material knowledge, patient capital, and uncompromising quality. More importantly, I am highlighting the lack of openness to change and evolution that handicaps US brands in catering to shifting global markets and dynamics. The European houses, for all their faults, have historically understood the value of heritage and craft. American brands, too often, have seen them as obstacles to scale. That is the mindset that must change.

The coastal United States—New York and San Francisco—have over-committed to finance and technology. Their economies are increasingly non-material. Venture capital in 2024 poured over $200 billion into software, AI, and fintech. Investment in domestic textile or leather manufacturing was a fraction of that.


   
The Case for Middle America & A Strategy for Success

The coastal United States—New York and San Francisco—have over-committed to finance and technology. Their economies are increasingly non-material. Venture capital in 2024 poured over $200 billion into software, AI, and fintech. Investment in domestic textile or leather manufacturing was a fraction of that.

But luxury is inherently material. It is the smell of leather, the hand of a knit, the weight of a buckle. That knowledge lives where things are still made. It lives in Minnesota, Texas, North Carolina, and Ohio.

However, there is an important distinction to make here. Nostalgia alone is not a strategy. The current industry obsession with vintage reissues, archive mining, and "heritage" recreations often leads to cultural stagnation, not progress. When Dior repeatedly reissues the Saddle bag from 1999, or when Prada resurrects the Cleo from 2021, they are trading on memory rather than building a future. True material culture uses the past as a foundation, not a destination.

The time is ripe for the next great luxury fashion brand to be born and developed in Middle America. This would not be a nostalgia play. It would be the most authentic, future-ready luxury proposition in the world.

So, what is the strategy? Let me propose four concrete actions for regional brands and investors.

First, resist the financialization instinct. Do not go public. Do not measure success by unit volume. Measure it by margin, by waitlist length, by artisan retention. We often forget both Hermès and Louis Vuitton started as specialized manufacturers of a single product—trunks and equestrian gear—for decades before becoming conglomerates. Embrace small scale. This is the path of patient capital, not quarterly returns.

Second, leverage governmental support for craft. The United States has committed over $50 billion to reshore manufacturing through the CHIPS Act and the Inflation Reduction Act. True luxury businesses should advocate for a portion of these funds to be directed toward textile crafts, leather tanneries, and artisan training programs. State-funded craft schools and loan forgiveness for students entering artisan fields are achievable policy goals.

Third, find the "industry crossover" brand. There is a critical difference between fashion and luxury. Fashion is transient, trend-driven, and often celebrity-led. Luxury is timeless, material-led, and built on craft. Young designers in Brooklyn or Los Angeles may produce interesting fashion, but they rarely build lasting luxury houses. What is needed is an industry brand with deep, unexpected heritage and know-how—a Saint Croix or a Cole-Tac—partnered with a design visionary. Let the craftspeople own the process. Let the designers translate it for the world. And crucially, let both sides remain open to the evolution required to compete in a multipolar market.

Fourth, redefine "Made in USA" for luxury. The phrase cannot mean "accessible." It must mean uncompromising. It must stand for material innovation, transparent supply chains, and a fair wage for the artisan. It must build a narrative of American quality, not American scale.

Conclusion

The global luxury industry is at an inflection point. The European model of financialized, conglomerate-controlled, celebrity-driven fashion is failing. It is hollowing out its own cultural capital.

At the same time, the United States has shown an active interest in trying to rebuild its domestic manufacturing base. The challenge has always been making that manufacturing profitable. Government policy has focused on semiconductors and electric vehicles, but fashion and textiles have been largely ignored. This is a mistake.

Furthermore, the current push for reshoring often falls into a nostalgia trap. The goal cannot be to recreate the manufacturing economy of the 1950s. That world is gone. The goal must be to build something new on top of what remains: a luxury sector rooted in material culture, not digital abstraction, not virtual goods, not service-economy intangibles.

Luxury is the answer. Luxury is the only sector that can add the profit margins needed to sustain skilled, domestic manufacturing jobs. The United States, particularly its heartland, has the material culture, the unexpected heritage brands, and the growing consumer demand for authenticity to seize this moment.

The question is not whether "Made in USA" luxury can be viable. The question is whether the vision and patience exist to build it.

Thank you.