What the Met's John Galliano exhibition reveals about fashion's selective memory

John Galliano is a creative genius. Fashion has known this since his graduate collection at Central Saint Martins in 1984. The industry has celebrated him during his tenures at luxury fashion houses Dior and Maison Margiela. In spring 2027, the wider public will also be introduced to his unparalleled ability for narrative design when the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art presents “John Galliano: Horizons”.

This decision, however, raises questions about the fashion industry's selective memory.

Horizons and transformation

To say that Galliano's upcoming exhibition at the Met is a big deal would be an understatement. 16 years after his once-fiercest rival, Alexander McQueen, was posthumously honoured by the Costume Institute, Galliano is now the focus of a comprehensive solo exhibition spanning his entire career. This makes him only the third living designer to receive this recognition, following Yves Saint Laurent in 1983 and Rei Kawakubo in 2017.

According to Anna Wintour, global editorial director of Vogue and a trustee of the Met, “there is no one more deserving of an exhibition of this scale than John Galliano”. His work, which spans from his own label to Dior, Givenchy, and Margiela, is a fusion of scholarship and creativity—a universe where past and future collide. Wintour is convinced that the designer is more than the sum of his individual works and should not be defined by a single moment, even if that moment could, or perhaps should, have overshadowed everything that followed.

The organisers were clearly aware that the decision to honour Galliano's legacy would draw criticism. They therefore stressed early on that the exhibition does not intend to bypass or gloss over the events of 2011. At that time, Galliano was arrested for public insult following an antisemitic tirade filmed in a Parisian café and was subsequently dismissed by Dior at the peak of his career.

“The exhibition will not shy away from the dark chapters in John’s past,” said Wintour. “They are part of what has shaped him. The exhibition will show the full arc of his career and will address all these aspects.”

Andrew Bolton, curator of the Costume Institute, describes a similar approach. He sees the exhibition as a form of cartography—not a survey of places, but of connections, tensions, and changes. It traces how images become ideas, ideas become material, and material becomes emotion. A horizon, according to Bolton, shows not only what lies ahead but also the viewer's own position. In this sense, the exhibition examines two things simultaneously. It explores how Galliano has changed the visual language of fashion over four decades. It also considers how his behaviour, its consequences, and changing societal values have influenced how his work is understood today.

According to the announcement, the exhibition will be structured in three “movements”: “Bearings,” “Horizons,” and “Atlas of Transformation.” The first section, “Bearings,” is not intended to erase Galliano’s transgressions but to contextualise them. It will address the rupture caused by his antisemitic, racist, and anti-Asian remarks, as well as his subsequent treatment for addiction and his later public acceptance of responsibility.

Narrative of redemption

This is more transparency than many retrospectives afford their subjects. However, context is not the same as accountability. A museum wall text acknowledging a hate-filled outburst is not the same as an institution questioning whether it should centre a three-part, decades-spanning tribute on the very person who committed it.

The Met seems to be at least partially aware of this. Instead of telling a classic story of disgrace and redemption, the exhibition aims to explore how memory, experience, cultural values, and historical circumstances continuously shape the perception of a designer. It is intended to invite visitors to reflect on how aesthetic achievement, ethical responsibility, and institutional recognition are interconnected, according to the statement.

This narrative itself is not new. Galliano has long since been reabsorbed into the mythology of the fashion industry. His misconduct is often portrayed as a chapter in the story of a genius with a difficult journey, rather than as a moment that should have permanently changed how fashion discusses responsibility and consequences.

This is precisely the mechanism that needs to be identified: in fashion, talent is often treated as a mitigating factor, as if creative greatness can diminish the severity of a transgression. Galliano's path back is not an exception. It followed several years in fashion exile, rehabilitation, and a fashion press willing to grant him the narrative of redemption, alongside a decade of acclaimed work at Margiela. This journey is, rather, an expression of the normal state of an industry that repeatedly offers a way back to its greatest talents.

This normal state deserves special attention right now. The Galliano exhibition arrives at a time of rising antisemitic incidents worldwide and a broader climate of persistent racial and political tensions. It seems obvious that the organisers are well aware of this, as they apparently did not enter this project unprepared.

A report in The New York Times by chief fashion critic Vanessa Friedman on the exhibition's preparation revealed that Wintour, Galliano, and Bolton held talks last year with rabbis and representatives of Jewish communities in New York. These discussions were intended, among other things, to understand concerns about the exhibition and to seek a form of approval for the project.

Rabbi Rick Jacobs, president of the Union for Reform Judaism in North America, told The New York Times he was impressed by Galliano’s “sincerity” and did not feel his remorse was rehearsed. Jonathan Greenblatt, chief executive officer of the Anti-Defamation League, went even further in a statement, explaining that the ADL is convinced that Galliano has seriously addressed the causes of his 2011 remarks and that his efforts to make amends deserve recognition.

This careful preparation is significant. It does not, however, resolve the fundamental unease that has existed—particularly on social media—since the exhibition was announced.

Fashion's need to forgive sins

This does not mean that Galliano's work should not be respected, taught, or exhibited. Fashion history is not better served by removing difficult figures from it. There is, however, a crucial difference between an exhibition that critically examines a legacy and one that—at least in its current conception—seemingly prioritises admiration, with accountability following only later.

The three “movements” chosen by Bolton follow a narrative in their current conception that seemingly guides visitors from rupture through transformation to a form of restoration. There is a risk, however, that the exhibition will not so much reveal the unresolved contradictions of a complex legacy as trace the familiar arc from fallen genius to rehabilitated icon.

The exhibition at the Met will undoubtedly be extraordinary—Galliano's talent and his influence on fashion history are beyond question. Extraordinary, however, does not automatically mean uncontroversial. An institution like the Met must endure this exact tension: to acknowledge the greatness of an artistic contribution without losing sight of the responsibility for the actions of the person behind it. As long as the fashion industry is willing to treat genius as an excuse rather than part of a more complex consideration, it will continue to be inclined to downplay the transgressions of its greatest talents.