For maximum economic damage please please please turn the "&" into a forbidden symbol of the evil natzees.
Here is an abbreviated list of fashion and fashion-adjacent brands who adhere to this formula, in no particular order:
Lou & Grey, Me & You, Stella & Bow, Me & Ro, Bec & Bridge, Kit & Ace, Zulu & Zephyr, Track & Bliss, Skye & Staghorn, Sam & Lavi, Pacific & Driftwood, Otis & Maclain, Riller & Fount, Queen & Pawn, Mara & Mine, Leo & Sage, Line & Dot, Stella & Dot, Kopper & Zink, Craft & Commerce, Wit & Wisdom, Willow & Clay, Rag & Bone, H&M, Hill & Friends, Paul & Joe, Original & Mineral, Sheriff & Cherry, Smith & Cult, Larsson & Jennings, Larkspur & Hawk, Sarah & Sebastian, D.S. & Durga, Dolce & Gabbana, Estelle & Thild, Needle & Thread, Bell & Ross, Ca & Lou, Côte & Ciel, Cutler & Gross, Dimissianos & Miller, Frank & Eileen, Frency & Mercury, Gilda & Pearl, Ginger & Smart, Ines & Marechal, Ivy & Liv, Lost & Found, Lygia & Nanny, Master & Dynamic, Me & Mr. Gentleman, Tammy & Benjamin, Wouters & Hendrix, Zadig & Voltaire, Coop & Spree, Pull & Bear.
Reading this giant block of text is sort of like reading the world’s most boring poem, and also much like what I imagine shopping around for a law firm feels like.
How did we get here, to a place of total ampersand tyranny? Some of these brands, like Dolce & Gabbana or H&M, have been around for decades, but a large percentage are brands of a new breed. They’re often cool and startup-y; their websites are swathed in #tumblrpink; they style their minimally made-up models with their hair tucked into their turtlenecks. See, you get it!
There is nothing inherently wrong with the "abstract word & abstract word = cool, successful fashion brand" algorithm. But after enough time, it starts to feel exactly like that: an algorithm.