IN the last two months, the editor of French Vogue has resigned; the president of Yves Saint Laurent said she will leave her dream job to run the vanity label of Reed Krakoff, the Coach creative director, whose one dream is apparently to be successful. Gucci Group cut its chief executive loose. The first anniversary, on Feb. 11, of Alexander McQueen’s suicide brought up another loss, another memory. And on the nausea went until, implausibly, John Galliano self-destructed in a liquored-up “I love Hitler” rant — caught, as so many career-enders are these days, on video and circulated on the Web. Some felt the panic more than others and wondered if it was not time for them to get out, too. Some confronted it the only way the modern media world allows, by riding it out and planning to get to the Mugler show early on Wednesday night, because Lady Gaga was expected to model and there would be a scene. But in this context, the words “the show must go on,” hoisted like a dinky white flag, feel callow. One thing is for sure: Dior’s chief executive, Sidney Toledano, and his boss, the biggest pencil in the luxury-goods business, Bernard Arnault, the chairman of LVMH Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton, had to begin dismissal procedures against Mr. Galliano. They couldn’t tolerate the public hating by Mr. Galliano, however out of character his defenders said it was for him. In circumstances like these, a sensible millionaire designer would have jumped into his chauffeured car and gone to his boss and pleaded insanity, whereupon he would have been given an all-expense-paid trip to rehab. But that’s just it: Mr. Galliano is not a sensible man, any more than fashion chiefs are missionaries. Last Friday, when Dior suspended him, many fashion writers suspected that the company was seizing an opportunity to fire him after 15 years on the job. Though he could still dazzle with haute couture, like last summer’s flower-tinted collection, the real business is in accessories and ready-to-wear — and Mr. Galliano’s own eccentric turn-outs at the end of shows were often all editors talked about as they buzzed and buzzed about Phoebe Philo of Céline or someone equally relevant.
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