Not every founder should be front-facing. | Willow & Blake

We’re living in the boom of the celebrity brand. SKIMS, rhode, Rare, Humanrace, Cécred, Haus Laborities, florence by mills, Blake Brown, R.E.M, The Row, Lemme…I could keep going, but these obvious cash grabs make me depressed.

Despite my personal preferences, this is clearly a lucrative strategy. Leveraging an already-existing audience is a no-brainer for investors—capitalising on a celebrity’s associations pretty much does the branding work for you. Even if you’re not famous, a well crafted founder story creates a sense of human-to-human connection that’s sweet, sweet nectar to busy consumerist bees. 

But the front-facing strat loses its benefits when a founder loses face. In December of 2024, clean girls everywhere tuned into Instagram to find their feeds filled with shadowy, faceless interviews. Broadcast by Swedish news outlet Aftonbladet, the interviewees were describing their workplace from hell; where a power-drunk founder called employees fat and made them scrub her private toilet. Come to find out, the founder in question was Matilda Djerf. We should have known. That hair held secrets.

In 2019 Djerf parlayed her success on social media into a fashion brand that bore her name; Djerf Avenue. The product was essentially her Scandi minimalist aesthetic recreated (you’ve always wanted to look like Matilda, and now you…still don’t). And the brand’s values were Matilda’s; inclusivity, kindness, and respect. 

When Djerf went down, Djerf Avenue went down with her. She was pretty, inclusive and classy, so the brand was too. But now that she’s cancelled, so is Djerf Avenue. If a front-facing founder doesn’t consistently live up to the brand’s values and qualities, it’s a very bad look. 

RIP Djerf. She left a legacy of hair dysmorphia.

The hybrid founder has one foot in the spotlight and the other behind the scenes. Their brands usually don’t bear their names and their face won’t feature in campaigns. A hybrid founder’s natural habitat is LinkedIn, where you’ll catch clips of them at a podcast mic and reposts of articles in which they’ve been asked to comment on industry trends.

Our co-founders Jess Hatzis and Bree Johnson took this approach with their skincare brand, frank body. It’s also worked well for Rachael Wilde of tbh skincare (you might know her as the Gen Z boss in a mini), Nancy Twine of Briogeo and Jasmine Hand of Jaz Hand Made. Their role as partially-visible founders allows them to give a sense of expertise and creates a human story, without tying the brand inextricably to their identities and career moves.

The pros: You’ve got flexibility. If a founder like this steps down from a brand, it doesn’t mean the end. And if they get into hot water, it’s not an immediate blow to the business—though there is still risk, mind you.

The cons: You’re building a personal brand and a consumer brand side by side. And, unless your brand offering or business operations are seriously novel, you’re trying to break into two extremely cluttered spaces. That’s double the work and double the resistance. 

Hats off to Jess and Bree. I couldn’t do it frankly. Any personal brand beyond shitposting on the grid just isn’t aligned with my beautiful, beautiful chakras. 

Silent, refined, mysterious. Like a chic ventriloquist, a hidden founder lets their products speak for themselves. 

There are plenty of large corporations of dubious origins that use this tactic; H&M, for example. You have no idea who founded H&M, and they’re going to keep it that way. If they want a personal touch, they can engage a spokesperson. And they’re free to use whomever they like, pivoting away from those who grow tiresome or passé and towards anyone who has cultural caché. Case in point: Charli xcx x H&M, a masterclass in obliterating integrity for the sake of profit. Shameless is Charli’s brand, and she’s doing it well. Girl, so confusing.

Some hidden founders cultivate a sense of familiarity by crafting a persona for their brand. For example Vi, Ultra Violette’s sassy brand character. Others lean into the timeless mystery and infallibility, like La Mer. 

The downside is a lack of personal pull and story, which is especially important on social media. But the benefits are that you’re free to do whatever you want with your personal brand (or lack thereof), you can play as much as you want with endorsers and influencers, plus you maintain flexibility and an evergreen nature.

Wrapping it up.

You can see that each of these structures has its merits and demerits. Your brand’s perfect choice will depend on your resources, capabilities, competition and brand positioning. It will also depend on whether you’re really hot and famous and people will instinctively buy whatever you’re selling.

I’ll leave you with this:

Does your brand need a face?

No.

But it does need legs.

Badum, ching.