When Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez took over Loewe, the expectations were high. The duo behind Proenza Schouler, known for their clean cuts and cool, effortless approach, faced one of the biggest challenges of the season: following Jonathan Anderson after ten years at the helm. Their task wasn’t to reinvent Loewe, but to find a new rhythm for a House that had already defined modern craft.
The show opened with a burst of sound that set a fast pace. The music was loud, charged, and a little chaotic. The clothes followed that rhythm, feeling structured but fluid. Leather stayed at the core, treated in all kinds of ways: polished and sleek in tailored coats, matte and folded in softer separates, embossed in new textures that caught the light differently as models walked. Some looks seemed simple, but up close, the construction was insane. What looked like denim or linen was actually leather, worked so precisely it almost tricked you. A black coat that felt minimal from the front had a pull at the back, referencing the Flamenco bag. There were wool dresses so structured they almost stood on their own, and others that looked like towels, soft and wrapped. The shoes were another story — transparent, with coloured socks underneath. Small surprises everywhere, but nothing felt forced or out of line with the House’s DNA.
This debut circled around one question: how do you redefine craftsmanship today without losing the human trace behind it? The answer came through technique; clean, sculptural shapes built from pieces that looked effortless but required precision. McCollough and Hernandez leaned into the physicality of clothes: parkas, polos, minidresses, and bombers — simple forms that gained depth through material and proportion.
Colour was just as considered. There were flashes of red and yellow that hinted at Spain without turning literal, mixed with shades of moss green, terracotta, and white. The balance felt just right. At the centre of the show stood a piece by Ellsworth Kelly, Yellow Panel with Red Curve (1989), a quiet reference that captured the spirit of the collection: clarity, sensuality, and optimism, all rendered through colour and form.
Accessories followed that same idea. The Amazona bag came back more structured, the Flamenco looked softer, almost squishy, and a few new clutches appeared in unexpected materials. One in particular stood out: a clutch made of blown glass, a reminder that craftsmanship can still surprise when pushed to its limits. It all tied together without trying too hard, proving that McCollough and Hernandez know how to make things feel new without losing what makes Loewe, Loewe.
It was a smart debut — confident, well edited, and easy to understand. McCollough and Hernandez didn’t try to outshine Anderson or rewrite what Loewe stands for. Instead, they gave it a reset, taking the House back to craft. You can feel a bit of their Proenza touch, but it blends naturally with Loewe’s warmth and precision. It felt modern and grounded, intimate yet open — a collection that reaffirms Loewe’s place between art, design, and the everyday.
