In today’s world, the notion of ‘Americanness’ carries a lot of weight, stirring up complex feelings for understandable reasons.
It was truly remarkable to see how Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez, making their highly anticipated debut as co-creative directors for Loewe, embraced this very concept. Rather than delving into the complicated political or social implications, they tapped into the essence of what once felt inherently American: a spirit of freedom, effortlessness, and forward-moving energy, beautifully translated through their designs.
Their approach resulted in one of the season’s most invigorating collections, a rare showcase that genuinely captured the vibrant essence of spring.
The show space itself hinted at the theme, with Ellsworth Kelly’s ‘Yellow Panel with Red Curve’ greeting guests. The runway burst with primary colors, showcasing seemingly simple garments that exuded an unexpected sophistication.
These were clothes that painted a picture: a dreamy summer of lively cocktail parties, perhaps with art dealers in Water Mill or on Spain’s sun-drenched Costa Brava. Imagine mezcal margaritas, overflowing bowls of olives and cherry tomatoes, well-loved paperbacks scattered across a coffee table, and the air buzzing with animated conversation.
When American designers arrive in Paris, there’s often an unspoken pressure, a lingering stereotype that Parisian fashion is inherently superior, while New York is relegated to mere ‘sportswear.’ While taking the creative helm of a major European house, like Spain’s Loewe now under a French conglomerate, is certainly a mark of achievement, it can often lead designers to overthink and create overly complicated collections, striving to prove their ‘fashion’ credentials.
However, some designers, like Daniel Roseberry, a Texan guiding Schiaparelli, skillfully sidestep this pitfall. Roseberry has brilliantly modernized the surrealist-founded house by fusing imaginative fantasy with contemporary flair. This season, his collection featured intriguing optical illusions: simple dresses and suits adorned with punched-out polka dots, offering glimpses of the body beneath; gowns that appeared to peel away like aged wallpaper (a subtle nod to Schiaparelli’s iconic 1938 ‘tears dress’); and a minimalist black sheath famously overlaid with a life-size white line drawing from Mr. Roseberry’s personal sketchbook.
Unfortunately, this ambition often results in overly elaborate and burdensome designs.
This isn’t McCollough and Hernandez’s first foray into Parisian fashion. In the late 2010s, they showcased Proenza Schouler, the brand they established straight out of design school, in Paris for two seasons. However, their initial attempts felt overly embellished, and they returned to New York with a sense of having learned valuable lessons.
Despite remaining darlings of the New York fashion scene, stepping down from their own label in January signaled their enduring ambition for Europe. Their return for Loewe’s debut sparked a crucial question: had they truly evolved their approach?
The resounding answer was yes.
Backstage, amidst an emotional reception from well-wishers and family, Mr. McCollough, with Mr. Hernandez visibly moved, affirmed their approach: ‘We can’t ignore where we come from. We don’t want to hide from it.’
They masterfully blended their unique vision with Loewe’s rich heritage—a brand renowned as Spain’s oldest leather-goods house, celebrated for its exceptional craftsmanship. They also built upon its recent success under Jonathan Anderson (now at Dior), who transformed Loewe into an innovative, accessible art project.
Their collection featured striking molded, bell-shaped leather coats and sleek sleeveless mini dresses. The vibrant blue, red, and yellow hues brilliantly echoed both the Spanish flag and the Ellsworth Kelly painting, creating a cohesive visual narrative.
They showcased ‘denim’ jeans and jackets crafted from stretch leather, meticulously hand-treated to mimic the texture of soft cotton. Striped leather polo-shirt minidresses were constructed with layers of skins, reminiscent of plywood. What appeared to be simple terry-cloth frocks were, in fact, 3-D-printed and hand-painted, shimmering like sunlight on water with every movement. A practical yet playful touch was seen in clear plastic jelly pumps, designed to be worn with interchangeable colorful socks, offering endless styling possibilities with a single pair of shoes.
This was sportswear elevated—reimagined through innovative techniques and presented with the quiet confidence of designers who no longer felt the need to overcompensate. It was, in essence, an American dream beautifully brought to life on the runway.