What Happened
Lululemon is pushing aggressively into international markets while simultaneously searching for a new CEO and navigating internal boardroom friction. The company is trying to grow its global footprint at the exact moment its leadership structure is unsettled. That combination of outward ambition and inward chaos is not just a business problem. It is a communication crisis waiting to happen.
The Communication Angle
Here is the lesson: when your house is on fire, do not announce a renovation.
Lululemon is trying to tell two stories at once. The first story is confident and forward-facing: we are a global brand, we are expanding, we are winning. The second story is messy and unresolved: we do not have a permanent CEO, and our board is not aligned. The problem is that these two stories cancel each other out. Stakeholders, investors, employees, and potential CEO candidates hear both signals simultaneously, and the louder one is always the uncertain one.
This is a classic case of message fragmentation. When an organization sends competing signals, the audience does not average them out. They lock onto the negative one. It is human nature. Uncertainty about leadership reads as instability, and instability makes every other announcement sound hollow. You cannot credibly sell global ambition when you cannot answer the question of who will be executing that ambition twelve months from now.
The right move here is sequencing, not silence. Lululemon does not need to hide the CEO search. They need to get out in front of it with a single, clear narrative that frames the transition as intentional rather than reactive. Something like: "We are taking the time to find exactly the right leader for this next chapter, and here is what that chapter looks like." That one sentence does two things. It shows control. It shows vision. Right now, Lululemon is doing neither.
The boardroom battle makes this harder, because internal conflict always leaks. It shows up in hedged statements, inconsistent messaging from different executives, and the kind of corporate language that sounds like it was written by a committee because it was. Every time a company speaks in passive voice and vague timelines during a leadership transition, they are broadcasting that nobody is actually in charge of the message. Someone needs to own the narrative. One voice. One story. One direction.
This is exactly the kind of scenario I break down in Say It Right Every Time. The chapter on controlling your narrative during high-stakes transitions gives you a framework for sequencing your messages so that your audience hears confidence first and context second. Most leaders get this backwards. They lead with the complicated situation and hope the vision lands afterward. It never does. Vision has to come first, or the noise drowns it out entirely.
Never Be Lost
for Words Again
Get word‑for‑word scripts for the conversations that shape your life, from job interviews and negotiations to difficult talks with family and partners, so you always know exactly what to say and how to say it.
Never Be Lost
for Words Again
Get word‑for‑word scripts for the conversations that shape your life, from job interviews and negotiations to difficult talks with family and partners, so you always know exactly what to say and how to say it.
Key Takeaway
Before your next communication during a period of uncertainty, write down the single thing you need your audience to believe when you are done. Not the facts you want to share. The belief you want to leave them with. Then cut every sentence that does not serve that belief. Lululemon needs their audience to believe: "This company knows exactly where it is going." Right now, every statement they make should be tested against that filter. If it does not reinforce that belief, it does not get said.
