MOSCHINO | ADRIAN APPIOLAZA

For the Argentine Adrian Appiolaza, success is synonymous with the freedom to dress as you wish, rather than as you must. It was, therefore, a natural progression for him to be appointed as the Creative Director of Moschino, a fashion house that has made excess and humor its defining principles.

Exclusive Interview with Filep Motwary

In the spring of 2003, I traveled to Amsterdam as an emerging fashion designer, representing Greece in a project titled Absolut Label, organized by the renowned vodka brand. It was my first visit to the Netherlands, and I found myself in a meeting that, despite its intense competition, made me feel as though I was part of something significant. Among the designers from various countries were the Turkish duo Yazbukey, the Pole Marek Adamski, and Adrian Appiolaza from Argentina. I confess that I don’t remember much from that moment, except for the T-shirts each of us had created and the accompanying campaign—my photo being by far the weakest! Three days later, I returned to my base, excited but without expectations—truthfully, I didn’t quite understand what had just transpired.

It was the pre-internet era, at least for most, and I lacked the necessary experience to form a clear opinion. What truly mattered, though, in this story—seemingly insignificant as it may appear—is that two or three years later, while doing my internship at Chloé alongside Phoebe Philo, I reconnected with Appiolaza, already a permanent member of her design team. I worked there for about six months, but after leaving, I lost touch with him until January 2024, when he took on the role of Creative Director at Moschino, a position that had been vacant following the sudden death of Davide Renne on November 10, 2023, at the age of 46, just nine days after assuming his duties.

Born in 1972, Adrian Appiolaza grew up in Buenos Aires and shared a special bond with his grandmother, who ran a small workshop where he first came into contact with the art of tailoring. “My first job, in the mid-’90s, was at an insurance company, so I could save money to go to London,” he recalls. “I was 21, a very shy boy who absolutely did not want to wear a suit. Freedom was always vital to me. After completing my studies in architecture, I boarded a plane with a singular goal, but also a fear: not to return as a failure. I was troubled and desperately wanted to explore the world.” After testing his endurance working nights at clubs and restaurants, he slowly began to discover fashion until he decided to apply for a place in the fashion department of Central Saint Martins. He invested all the money he had earned from hard work into a portfolio development program, which he presented at the prestigious London fashion school, and was accepted.

At the same time, Alexander McQueen was looking for an assistant designer, and the young Argentine seized the opportunity. He spent several years combining his studies with his position at the house, while also working as a bartender to make ends meet. “Looking back, I admit that I didn’t have a specific goal; I was just trying to survive. But I had no time to focus on my studies, and since I believed it was more important to get my degree, I handed in my resignation. Responsibility is one of the values I carry from home,” he tells me, revealing that Sebastian Pons, McQueen’s right hand, had already introduced him to Miguel Adrover, with whom he collaborated closely for a while. Phoebe Philo, who had just replaced Stella McCartney at Chloé, appointed him as her first assistant, and the collection he presented for his graduation in 2002, inspired by Argentina, won first prize. From 2006, he worked alongside Miuccia Prada on the Miu Miu collection, and in 2010, he became Senior Designer at Louis Vuitton under Marc Jacobs. His brief return to Chloé in 2012, as Design Director under Clare Waight Keller, led him to Loewe in 2014, where he worked closely with Jonathan Anderson on iconic collections such as the Anthurium for Spring/Summer ’23 and Beyoncé’s wardrobe for her Renaissance world tour. He stayed there for a decade, as Head of the prêt-à-porter department.

After so many collaborations with influential designers, he avoids talking about his experiences with them, preferring to remain loyal to the confidentiality agreements that accompany such collaborations. “It’s all about respect,” he emphasizes, before our conversation shifts, and he begins telling me about his obsession with archives. “This is my third collection for Moschino, and the first where I tried to be restrained with ideas from the past while being bold with the new,” he explains. “For me, it’s important when I design something that people wear it, identify with the idea behind it, with the overall concept, and with the character I want to convey. As soon as I took on my duties, I immediately went to see Franco Moschino’s archives, and what impressed me the most was the theatricality of his work, as well as the way he handled volume in garments as something that is constantly changing shape, but not essence. This archive is, for me, a testimony from Franco himself, who, despite the strong theatricality of his work, also had an affinity for prêt-à-porter. I didn’t want to lose that dimension, the enjoyment of storytelling through creation, or the commercial aspect that I am tasked with achieving.”

Indeed, observing Moschino’s captivating and highly commercial summer collection, one can see how the brand’s past seamlessly merges with its future, as Appiolaza explores various communities where dressing uniformly signals intellectual affinity. People from the past reunite and merge with the new fans of the house, all thinking in a similar way, bound together by their clothes. It is a reminder that in Moschino’s universe, everyone is a creator, every outfit is a script, and every moment an opportunity to defy the establishment. Men’s tailoring is adapted to women’s bodies, with more refined proportions, while Franco’s oversized elements are translated by Adrian in a more subtle and deliberate manner. In a world where the fashion ecosystem often seems on the verge of collapse, it is worth noting the presence of clothes that do not try too hard, offering a small relief from the chaos that engulfs us.

He disarms me when he confesses that he does not wish to associate himself with what he creates, for self-protection. “Any emotion can prove ‘fatal,’” he reflects. “My priority is our customer and their needs. I do everything I can to understand them 100%, as a member of a system that constantly exerts pressure for higher sales. It’s not easy.” He hastens to clarify that what he has always lacked is confidence, as insecurity often overwhelms creative people who constantly strive for self-improvement. He admits that he entered the company somewhat scared. What terrified him the most was overexposure, as all his previous roles in his 20-year career had been behind the scenes. “I had never had the opportunity to step forward, and at first, it wasn’t clear that my voice would be heard,” he tells me. “Moschino came at the right time in my life. In general, I like to keep control and stay informed. From this perspective, my first season in my new role taught me a lot. When I started, I had less than two months to prepare the collection and the show. Can you imagine? Through the pressure of time, I learned to finally trust my instincts and act quickly. During my career, other fashion houses approached me, but because I’m shy, I never took the big leap. I felt more comfortable working behind the scenes. Last year, I finally decided to face my fears, and when Moschino reached out, I was ready. The philosophy of the house aligns with mine—style, for me, is connected with irony and humor, and the joy of creating through clothing is important,” he says, laughing.

Franco Moschino delighted in mocking the fashion industry, even as he thrived within it. His shows were spectacles, with humor serving as the most unexpected tool for successful marketing. The clothes became his way of communicating his message, while still honoring femininity and tailoring. Much like Elsa Schiaparelli, he played with surrealism, frequently using the trompe l’oeil effect. He was a master at deconstructing classic garments, and something as simple as a T-shirt was transformed into a weapon that challenged the establishment, thanks to slogans like “Oh come on darling! It’s only entertainment!” which etched his name in golden letters on the map of global fashion. While some critics labeled him a “rebel without a cause,” the designer—who passed away from AIDS complications in 1994—used his platform to promote social change. His advertisements became campaigns against drugs, violence, and animal abuse, and he was among the first to highlight the environmental impact of the fashion industry. Behind his playful satire, he deeply understood its essence. “The DNA of this house has always been tied to accessibility and humor. As though anything is possible. Franco used to say that anything you find on the street could become an accessory, and that’s a mindset I’m interested in applying to my own creative process. Moschino means freedom—dressing as you wish, not as you must. For me, that is the true measure of success,” concludes Adrian Appiolaza.