No!!!

It was all over the news this morning. The Proenza Schouler duo, Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernández, has stepped down from the American brand they founded and have helmed for 23 years. Nothing to be really surprised by that even if the revelation is a tad unexpected. But, concurrently, a rumour has been spreading and it is shocking the industry: The two of them will be heading to Loewe! If this is a social media joke, it is a brutal one. Out of the blue, two designers of indeterminate appeal and dubious flair are considered for positions at one of Europe’s most esteemed houses. It is as cruel a surprise as it gets. There is a presumed vacancy at Loewe after months of intense chatter that Jonathon Anderson would be moving to Dior, where the hard-to-appreciate Maria Grazia Chiuri has held court since 2016. But is this, if believable, not a bit rash?

Amid the speculative fervour, we tried very hard to remember what Proenza Schouler is known for and we came up naught. When we asked around, no one could point to a specific moment in the brand’s existence that was particularly stirring. How would one describe their aesthetic? We kept getting “artsy cool”, which invariably means neither. Proenza Schouler may be moderately unalike the average American designer, and may be less trashy than many up-and-comers, but that still precludes laudable distinction. This is probably an unfair comparison, but Mr McCollough and Mr Hernández going to Loewe, if true, would be akin to Carol Lim and Humberto Leon taking over Kenzo in 2011. The tragedy was in the cards. If there was poor paring at celebrated fashion houses, this surely counted as one. Eight years later (which was a rather long tenure), they were out, leaving behind nothing anyone could remember as spectacular.

How would one describe their aesthetic? We kept getting “artsy cool”, which invariably means neither

Mr McCollough and Mr Hernández met in 1988 when both were students at the Parson School of Design in New York. For their senior thesis in 2002, they collaborated on the collection, which turned out the be their first for Proenza Schouler, a moniker based on the maiden names of the two designers’ mothers. Reportedly, the former New York department store Barney’s was so impressed with the mainly relaxed separates and embroidered evening pieces that they bought the collection in its entirety (there was even a re-issue of some of the pieces in 2013, seven years before the once-beloved store closed). At some point, Proenza Schouler was partly owned by Valentino Fashion Group, an Italian consortium in the ownership of the Qatari royal family (the brand is now majority-owned by Mudrick Capital) that has its namesake in its stable of brands, but somehow even that boost to Proenza Schouler’s financial muscle did not stem the designing partners’ creative atrophy.

They could intermittently be New York Fashion Week darling, but we are not convinced that both have the spark to keep Loewe aflame. There is, of course, a love of American designers at European houses, which would work in Jack McCollough’s and Lazaro Hernández’s favour. And LVMH’s human resource department’s explicit love affair with American designers continues unabated (in fact, they seem partial to non-French). According to WWD, “LVMH has held discussions with McCollough and Hernandez over the years about joining one of its marquee fashion houses, which include Dior, Louis Vuitton, Givenchy and Fendi.” The time is, perhaps, right, now that Loewe has become a brand of considerable stature and desirability. Even without exceptional hands or smidgen of ingenuity guiding it, the Spanish label will thrive, as is the case with Dior. But, honestly, will that be enough? Or are we expecting too much?

Watch this space for updates. Illustration: Just So