"As a fashion designer, I was always aware that I was not an artist, because I was creating something that was made to be sold, marketed, used, and ultimately discarded"

Tom Ford’s observation draws a clear distinction between the realms of fashion design and pure art. He recognizes that although fashion often borrows from the vocabulary of art, drawing on creativity, aesthetic innovation, and visual storytelling, it remains tethered to commercial intent. Unlike artists, who may create for expression’s sake alone or pursue works with open-ended meanings and indefinite lifespans, Ford acknowledges that his work as a fashion designer is ultimately defined by its purpose: to be sold, marketed, and worn. Fashion, in his view, is a functional commodity, inherently bound to cycles of use and obsolescence.

This self-awareness highlights the tension between creativity and commerce. Ford doesn’t deny the imaginative force required in designing garments, but he is candid about the underlying motivations shaping his discipline. Every piece, no matter how beautiful or avant-garde, is designed with a consumer in mind; it must appeal, convince, and satisfy immediate trends. The cycle is relentless, clothes are not only meant to be experienced aesthetically, but to be bought and eventually discarded, giving way to new collections and seasons.

The remark also suggests a degree of humility. Ford resists conflating the prestige of artistry with the craft of fashion design. Rather than claiming an elevated or timeless status for his work, he locates value in its impermanence and utility. The products of fashion, he concedes, hold significance only as long as they serve their function or remain desired. In that sense, his creations are transient artifacts of culture and commerce, shaped by and shaping fleeting moments of taste.

Ultimately, Ford’s reflection prompts broader questions about the nature of art, utility, and value. By distinguishing his work from art, he brings attention to the inevitability of change and disposability in fashion, hinting at both the excitement and the melancholy inherent in making objects intended for ephemerality.