26/08/2014

What do the fashion house Hugo Boss and the Lernaean Hydra of Greek mythology have in common?

Well, I’m glad you asked. Not a huge amount, as it happens. One is a scaly oversized monstrosity, and the other is the Hydra. Ha! The one-two punch. Classic.

No, I’m not lazily cynical about large international fashion houses – though I’ve always found “Boss” as a brand name a little wankerish. Call me judgmental, but I can never help but attribute a few notes of swaggering overconfidence to anyone who swathes themselves in garments with the word “boss” stamped all over them. Or indeed, to those who do the stamping. I’m considering retiring this mentality for two reasons: the first is that the only lounge suit I own is from Hugo Boss (bought years ago, before I knew any better), and I’m desperate not to be hoist with my own petard (though if I keep using expressions like that, the Hugo Boss suit won’t be my biggest problem).

The second is that Hugo Boss is not the cocky fictional name I once thought it was, but actually just the name of the guy who set up the company. What’s more, he was German, so in his own language and in the original language of the company, the name was entirely unburdened by linguistic associations which for better or worse now wrap themselves around its Anglosphere operations. You can’t fault Hr. Boss for growing up in a world where the flourishing lingua franca condemned his surname to connotations of self-importance*.

Hugo Boss was born in Metzingen in 1885.

Back to the original question. The similarity is this: when you cut the head of the Lernaean Hydra, two more heads appear in its place. The same is true of Hugo Boss. Once the slicing starts, the unified Hugo Boss label disappears – and in its place appear ‘Hugo’ and ‘Boss’.

The latter is “traditional”, “classic”, “timeless”, where the former is “younger”, “more fashionable”, “cheaper”. To roughly quote my colleague in women's fashion. But Hugo Boss isn’t the only company to cut its own name up into horcrux-like component parts. Paul Smith have a range under the name PS; Michael Kors has Michael; and in recent years, Ralph Lauren have introduced the lines Lauren Ralph Lauren and Ralph Ralph Lauren (now known as RRL), in a speculative exercise designed to baffle and frustrate their customers. Marc Jacobs are the only ones trying to make light of all the absurdity - their website banner shifts between "Marc Jacobs (not to be confused with Marc by Marc Jacobs)", and "Marc by Marc Jacobs (not to be confused with Marc Jacobs)". Or maybe they're just genuinely concerned.

That opportunities for price discrimination and exposure to new demographic groups motivate the formation of these offshoot imprints, often cheaper than the originals, is fairly clear. What I find striking is that these companies are so keen to recycle their own names when these offshoots are created. Why do they limit their linguistic inventory to existing company titles?

Probably because the names are recognisable, and provide continuity with the original brand. But then, so does Weekend MaxMara, and Armani Jeans, and Bogner Fire + Ice. The difference is that these latter examples add new words to at least hint at what their angle is, rather than lazily grabbing a name from the pre-existing company title and repurposing it.

This is where my patience for Hugo Boss runs out. It’s not their fault that the surname of their founder corresponds letter for letter with the English word “boss”. But it is their fault that they take this surname, isolate it, and blazon it in big letters above the full title. And it’s that branding which tempts me (against my better judgement) into thinking that Boss designers and wearers alike are self-important arses. Dammit, I need a new suit.

It’s hard to keep your balance when you have such a big head.

*Though you can fault him for being a Nazi.