Should fashion houses continue after the original designer is gone?

As it is a business, yes. If something leads to the loss of jobs and the loss of investment, then I wouldn't advocate for it simply because the original aesthetic wasn't maintained with a new designer.

But what about when they bring back houses that had been closed for a while, like Charles James?
 
At the Head of Historic Houses, Does Fit Really Matter?

BY ALEXANDER FURY 6 MARCH, 2015

Recent seasons have seen a flurry of new designer appointments at historic fashion houses. Hedi Slimane at Saint Laurent. Alexander Wang at Balenciaga. Jonathan Anderson at Loewe. Do they make a good fit?

PARIS, France — Any designer worth their knicker-elastic will tell you that the fit is everything in fashion. That’s the much-vaunted point of both haute couture and Savile Row’s bespoke tailoring. If the fit is poor, no matter how well executed, it’ll end up looking a mess.

You wonder if large luxury conglomerates ask themselves that question: if the fit of a given designer with an existing house is really right? I frequently muse about how those decisions are made, particularly as so many seem, currently, to be lacking spark.

I’m thinking not only of relatively minor appointments — Alessandro dell’Acqua at Rochas, for instance, who relies on his stylist to pull a feasible identity out of the mundane clothes to which he attaches the house’s labels — but major names. Alexander Wang’s Balenciaga is yet to distinguish itself, although I have been told it sells well. But why would you put Wang — a young American sportswear designer, whose own-label clothes are cheap, cheerful and derivative — into a house known for its arch couture sensibilities under its founder and pioneering innovation under Nicolas Ghesquière?

Don’t get me wrong, I am not dismissing Wang’s talent outright. He’s a fantastic contemporary designer, who knows what young women want to wear almost before they do. I just don’t think his clothes fit Balenciaga. Likewise, there are the designs Hedi Slimane has been producing for Saint Laurent — simplistic, run-of-the-mill separates, sometimes in superlative fabrics, sometimes not. Material alone, however, doesn’t justify them. One British editor posed me a simple question: “Would you have such a problem if the label didn’t say Saint Laurent?” Possibly not.

There are different ways to fit, of course. I was told a wonderful story (possibly apocryphal, but I hope not) about a directrice at a major Parisian haute couture house who instructed clients as to the best surgeons to use to reconfigure their bodies to fit forthcoming garments. The late Nan Kempner retained a pin-thin physique to ensure she fitted into Yves Saint Laurent’s couture samples, which she purchased for a comparative bargain. Some designers do the same. Look at Raf Simons at Dior. His work is a marriage between his personal obsessions and the seemingly antithetical aesthetic of Dior. Simons makes himself fit and is transforming the house from within.

Which I think is a good thing. The label Saint Laurent — like Balenciaga, Dior, Chanel — means something in the annals of fashion. These are labels attached to weighty legacies, to be respected and honoured. Maybe I’m old fashioned. “Irrelevant,” was the vitriolic comment spat at me in response to my criticisms of what Jeremy Scott is doing at Moschino. Namely, because I object to Scott reducing Franco Moschino’s legacy down to a gag shoved on a t-shirt, one size supposedly fitting all. Franco was cleverer than that. Scott used to be, too.

The alternative? Alter the clothing — or the house — to fit the person inside. The trouble is, you can only alter something so much, until you just rip the whole thing apart and completely remake it. Or until it falls apart under the strain. Neither are good for the fabric.

Back in 1997, freshly-installed as head of the couture house of Christian Dior, John Galliano spoke of himself and the late Lee McQueen, then the designer at Givenchy. “We haven’t come here to chop these wonderful trees down,” he said, “but we’ve come here to prune them.”

How times have changed: today, indeed, the opposite is true. Designers as varied as Slimane, Wang and Loewe’s Jonathan Anderson have razed their respective houses to the ground to reconstruct. New designer, new start — generally, with a new logo, new shop-fit and new advertising. In short, a new identity. Gucci are doing just that under Alessandro Michele. He’s just shot his first campaign for pre-fall, the final collection created under the leadership of Frida Giannini. It will, nevertheless, be marketed via Michele’s vision. Gucci flagship stores are also being revamped, worldwide. Michele has the dubious benefit of anonymity. Unlike a marquee name with an established personal aesthetic, no-one can challenge Gucci on whether Michele actually fits.

That’s why, presumably, designers want to iron out the kinks and take total control over their fashion fiefdoms. “I think we needed to change; Loewe had to fundamentally get a fashion culture overnight,” stated Jonathan Anderson at the start of February, a month before his sophomore Loewe womenswear show. “When you go in to a brand like that you have to work out how to make longevity… it’s a new brand. That’s the way I look at it. Yes, it’s got 200 years of history but…”

But that doesn’t matter. What matters is the now and the next. Anderson is relatively lucky, in that Loewe’s fashion identity is shadowy at best. At worst, it’s Loe-who? Like the anonymity of Michele, Loewe gives Anderson freedom to invent, to edit the brand’s history and rebuild it how he wants. He was also able to change the design of the label’s logo without, say, the furore that met Slimane’s stripping of Saint Laurent’s “Yves.”

Slimane, however, is the new blueprint for label revival — revival without responsibility or respect. It’s paying dividends. Saint Laurent’s sales have doubled during Slimane’s tenure; Moschino sales grew 7 percent last year. There’s a customer for this. Perhaps those customers don’t care whether the designers fit the label, but only whether the clothes fit them. Maybe they don’t care what the label is at all.

bussinessoffashion
 
heatheranne posted this in the celine thread, but some of cathy horyn's words apply here, which i'll highlight:

What Is Too Much? What Is Enough? What Looks Authentic?
By Cathy Horyn

Phoebe Philo, in a powerful, sure-footed statement today for Céline, finally addressed one of the most stubborn problems in fashion: how to make sexy clothes that don’t sexualize a woman — that have a definite sense of glamour but also relate to how we live.

The show was probably Philo's broadest, most free expression yet of the kinds of things she likes; layered knits, a flair for surprising proportions, and accessories that throw everything off-kilter. You could tell from the opening outfits that Philo was pushing things with more self-assurance than she's ever pushed them — the wide-leg trousers with broken floral appliqués shown with clingy but comfy ribbed sweaters; the simple wool office dresses hemmed at the knee and worn with sneakers were bold questions about the notions of glamour. This was the first time her whole show made sense to me, and when I practically ran backstage to talk to her about it afterward, she explained that she and her design team began this season with a list of questions. What is too much? What is it not enough? And what looks authentic?

It seems to me that kind of hard-core questioning has been missing in fashion, which explains why so many runway collections lately look tentative or disconnected from women’s lives. Many designers have a one-dimensional view of glamour that boils down to t*ts and fringe. They seem oblivious that many women evoke glamour in a single gesture — the way, say, we cinch a good-looking coat at the waist or let a loose top reveal a hint of collarbone. One was always aware of the body in Philo's show, even when it was mostly covered up. Sometimes, too, the telling gesture was red lipstick, worn by only a handful of the models — an effective nod to how wonderfully variable and unpredictable women can be in their self-presentation.

Indeed, what I most appreciated about this collection was its variety. There were outfits for women whose style isn’t dressy, like the wool ponchos worn with knock-around skirts and shown with big shopper totes in a mixture of colors or textures. But then there were the double-layered slip dresses in three-tone washed silk, some worn with a long, ropelike boa finished with fur pom-poms the size of melons. Both the slip and the pom-poms were more typically elegant, but in seriously questioning the elements — and, literally, turning the fur into something playful on a string — Philo captured the complexity of a woman's desire to be at once chic, playful, smart, and, yes, glamourous.

Céline is one of the very few successful brand revivals of the past decade, which includes attempts by Carven, Maiyet, Schiaparelli, and more — while other names, like Rochas and Vionnet, replace their talent often enough to appear as avaricious as a Hollywood studio on its fifth horror sequel. But is there really a market for Vionnet’s clumsy drapery? I wondered the same about Guillaume Henry's peacoats and T-shirt dresses at Nina Ricci, though they were nice enough. Henry is the new guy at Ricci, replacing Peter Copping, who went to Oscar de la Renta. More than half a century ago, when Christian Dior suddenly died, there was an economic imperative to keep his house going and promote Yves Saint Laurent. After the New Look appeared, in 1947, Dior’s sales accounted for roughly half of France’s fashion exports.

But today these old brands mainly seem to clog the fashion system, discouraging young talent and new ideas. That’s why Jonathan Anderson’s overhaul of Loewe stands out. After only one year at the house, he gives you a reason to take notice, generously offering up new ideas for dressing, like wide-leg trousers in herringbone worn with very cool blousons in leather or what appeared to be papery cotton, the collars folded back or done as cowls.

Anderson basically had three ideas in this collection, and that was enough: slouchy trousers and the chic blouson, a slim leather coat in icy pastels worn with matching pants, and a rather divine knee-length shirt dress in pleated metallic silk worn with black trousers. But you’re free to play and wear the dress alone. And hey, an economy of design is never a bad thing.

nymag
 
But what about when they bring back houses that had been closed for a while, like Charles James?

As long as there's an integrity to it in terms of both business and art. I personally don't think moving away from old house codes takes anything away from past collections as long as there's a clientele for the revamped brand.
 
Let's make no mistake, there is an economic imperative far above anything else that keeps all these fashion houses going. I think it would be wonderful if we could just let a house close and be finished, allowing new labels and designers to flourish rather than continuing to revive/reinvent old houses and keep them going. But that's not going to happen anytime soon; we'll keep regurgitating and designers will keep flocking towards these labels, no matter how little their aesthetic fits with the codes or how little they even care about them.
 
The way things are going we're not gonna get the next Dior or McQueen anytime soon. No one seems to be investing in or looking for new talent, they just keep hiring the same people in their little circle who all copy each other and are burnt out. I understand how some old or revived brands are major successes but there are others that just keep failing and I don't get why they keep trying with them
 
No, I don't think they should close however I am being somewhat bias because I love Sarah's work for McQueen even though most people here seem to hate it. It's a really hard question because I just couldn't imagine not seeing some of the gorgeous pieces she has created however if the house closed after Lee died then I would never have known about them. Having already seen them it's too late IMO. I think she pays a lot of respect to Lee's work and I think this is definitely quite important in maintaining such a prestigious brand. The clothes will never be the same but so long as the designer (like her) can keep the aesthetic of the house and respect it then I have no problem.
From a business perspective I can also see why CEOs would want to keep these houses open or 'revive' them. These brands are already established and have a reputation and relatively large fan base, so much money and effort have been put into creating what it has become, it would be a complete waste. It's simply easier to continue a an already successful brand then start one from the ground up.
 
Yes, beautiful things like Galliano's Dior and Lagerfeld's Chanel can happen to them.
 
This thread is somewhat ridiculous.

You're talking about wiping out at least 60-70% of current design houses?

Gucci, Dior, Chanel, Givenchy, Yves...

Should Missoni and Fendi etc also stop because the original designers/founders are not there?

I don't really get this as a question? Of course it shouldn't.

Without the houses like Balenciaga we wouldn't have a Nicholas Ghesquiere. These houses are founded on longevity and life long, generational customer bases, they are also incredible platforms for new and young talent like, Riccardo at Givenchy and Marc at Vuitton when they started, and now Wang and Olivier at Balenciaga/Balmain.

Its all very well saying "McQueen shouldn't carry on", but that was not even McQueen's choice to make, its Kerring's. And Sarah Burton is the longest serving member of Alexander McQueen Staff who is still alive...and is not him, but her talent and creative directorial ship and craft is rarely matched by any other designer.

This thread is like saying "Should Prada really be a fashion label because it didn't actually start out making clothes.....should it just go back to leather goods?"
 
One of Missoni's founders is still active in the business (I believe she's working on the home side now), and her daughter is the current designer. It's really the same as Miuccia Prada, the business carried on from generation to generation ... don't know how you can mention Missoni in the same breath as Balenciaga. There are also Fendis still active in their business. Ferragamo is also in the hands of descendants.
 
I kind of prefer they don't either.. I do enjoy seeing family or the design team. With them at least there was a relationship, it's quite different as an approach imo
 
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