Fanning the Fervor

Why the Jaguar Rebrand Has Everyone in a Tizzy

When I think of Jaguar, I think of British racing green. The kind of sleek, sexy car James Bond might drive or a car that, in the right hands, carried the cool, subtle charm of a pop pop with swagger. Jaguar was aspirational yet attainable, a symbol of sophistication that didn't have to shout to be noticed. It had presence. It was Jag-u-ar.

According to Fast Company, Jaguar has a storied history from 1935, when the first-ever Jaguar car hit the market. Founder Sir William Lyons based the brand on a spirit of risk-taking design innovation, famously stating, “A Jaguar should be a copy of nothing.”

So why is everyone so triggered over Jaguar's latest rebrand, as seen above? My LinkedIn is packed with global critiques from my former world of advertising, and they’re not one to mince words when it comes to crapping all over something, mainly if they weren’t part of it.

It’s not like the company hasn’t reinvented itself before. But the shift this time—full-tilt into hyper-modern, icy luxury—feels different. It feels… wrong. This isn’t a sleek upgrade or a subtle evolution. It’s a complete repudiation of what made Jaguar iconic in the first place. Gone is the warmth of nostalgia, replaced by cold futurism that might work for, say, Tesla but feels woefully out of place here.

Maybe that’s why people are upset. Cars are emotional objects. They’re not just about getting from A to B—about who we are (or would like to be). We grow attached to brands that seem to “get” us. For decades, the Jaguar wasn’t just a car; it was a story. A mood. A vibe. And now? It feels like watching someone try desperately to be cool without understanding what cool even means.

The messaging doesn’t help. Jaguar’s pivot feels detached, almost arrogant, as though the brand is desperate to be taken seriously in the hyper-luxury space. But when you try too hard, the effort shows—and Jaguar, in its attempt to shed its old skin, has left behind not just the past but the heart of what made it resonate.

I might have suggested a different approach if I had been in the room during the rebrand. Why not lean into “Cool Britannia” for the 2020s? Perhaps a luxe fashion collaboration with Burberry, steeped in quiet British elegance but with an edge. A chic flagship showroom in the Cotswolds—a modern castle for the iconic brand. A cinematic influencer campaign featuring a road trip through Scotland, capturing the quiet majesty of the Highlands against the hum of an engine that promises both legacy and adventure.

Instead, we’ve got something that feels like it’s built for Instagram/AI, not real life—a car stripped of soul.

And yet, isn’t this what branding is all about? Brands don’t just sell products—they sell identity. They tap into our aspirations, our dreams, and, yes, our nostalgia. And when a brand like Jaguar, steeped in heritage, suddenly sheds its identity, it feels like a betrayal. We’re left wondering: If even Jaguar doesn’t want to be Jaguar anymore, what does that say about us?

This isn’t the first time a heritage brand has tried to modernize itself and failed spectacularly. Remember Burberry’s infamous plaid overexposure in the early 2000s, which turned the once-prestigious pattern into something far too mainstream? It took years for the brand to recover, leaning on Christopher Bailey’s creative vision to bring back the charisma of its trench coats and understated elegance.

Or how about Gap’s ill-fated logo redesign in 2010? The classic navy blue square with white text was replaced with a generic, gradient logo that nobody requested. The backlash was so immediate and intense that Gap reverted to its original design within a week.

Even Calvin Klein’s 2018 rebrand under Raf Simons missed the mark. The attempt to infuse avant-garde minimalism into a brand known for sleek, sexy Americana alienated its core customers and failed to attract the younger, high-fashion crowd. After two years, the brand parted ways with Simons and quietly returned to its roots.

Heritage brands often underestimate how deeply their legacies resonate with people. Do younger generations even value heritage and legacy the way we did? For many of us, these brands aren’t just products but cultural touchstones. Jaguar’s sleek curves and British racing green weren’t just design choices but symbols of something timeless. But in an era where trends burn out faster than you can say “micro-influencer,” heritage might seem more like a burden than an asset.

Let’s not fall into the trap of worshiping the past without critique. Reinvention, when done thoughtfully, can be extraordinary. There’s magic in finding ways to honor the old while embracing the new. A few recent loves that come to mind:

A vintage cashmere sweater paired with bold, modern jewelry. Timeless, but with a wink to today’s trends. The icon for this look is Jenny Walton, who always looks eternally chic yet fresh and modern.

A bone-cold gin martini served in a classic coupe. Glamour never goes out of style, but it does evolve. I like these a lot. Chin chin, darlings.

Listening to The Kinks on vinyl. It's classic, but the lyrics feel as fresh as ever in their sharpness and wit. Incidentally, it was my first concert.

A countryside drive in a vintage ride. Perhaps an old-school Jag, or perhaps not—but you get the idea. Randy “Rivals” style romp is not included. ;)

A vintage Rolex. The Air King from the 70s is on dream list every year.

Levi’s 501s. Vintage is best, and they’re beyond classic and are perfect for reeling in the years.

A redone dresser. I love seeing all these vintage Henredon dressers spiffed up with a fresh coat of paint to feel more modern. I'm dying for something like this for my closet. I spotted this on Facebook marketplace but have not yet heard back. Fingers crossed.

A modern take on a classic fit. NONAME is Needed, a brand I recently discovered, had me at rugby shirts, but then they leveled up the luxe and made them cashmere. SO SO GOOD. Check out their website for other fun cashmere offerings, too. They make great gifts, of course.

A Birkin bag with charms. I’m not really into this trend, but fashion chicks love it.

Serving a Big Mac on your grandmother’s china: I can’t take credit for this one. While getting my hair cut, a lovely woman I met was having a dinner party at her home and serving McDonald’s on family china. I love this. So much. Maybe it’s more high/low, but I still think it fits into classic with a twist.

Chanel No. 5: Is it time to rediscover an iconic fragrance like No. 5? It’s a lovely scent and worth a spritz the next time you encounter it. I love Chanel Jersey if you want something more unique but reminiscent of the classic Chanel scent.

For now, I’m not sure where the new Jaguar will land. Maybe it will grow on us; perhaps it won’t (word has it: a new electric car they’re rolling out is pink, “Miami” pink). Either way, I’ve stopped getting emotional about these things. (My post-election media blackout has worked wonders for keeping unnecessary anxiety at bay.)

Jaguar might want to shed its old skin, but what if the brand had trusted its roots instead of running from them? What if reinvention didn’t mean erasure but evolution?

If anything, this rebrand has been a reminder of what truly matters in the things we love: not the flash, not the trends, but the soul. Something old, something new, feels spot-on to me.

Here’s to keeping a little soul in whatever reinvention looks like for you.

Toodles. XO