Mr. Armani was one of the designers who most inspired, taught, and accompanied me over the last years. A true gentleman, full of grace. And yes, undeniably handsome. I arrived in Milan when I was thirty and quickly realized that he was, in many ways, the soul of the city. His effortless elegance, his refusal to take himself too seriously are emblematic of that distinctly Italian style the world so admires.
The first time I shook his hand was at a basketball game, Olimpia-Virtus, but the moment I eventually found the courage to properly introduce myself came at a fashion show. At the game, I was a little embarrassed, since I was rooting for the opposing team. Still, it was impossible to resist the charm of those ice-blue eyes and his firm, decisive handshake, which I’ve always interpreted as a sign of a confident presence and lasting friendship toward the magazine I now have the honor of leading.
When it comes to Armani, the story is woven into the very genesis of Vogue Italia. It was Flavio Lucchini, the magazine’s first art director, who designed the original Giorgio Armani logo, right there in the editorial office. When the then very young designer decided to go solo, his friend designed the brand’s graphics using the same Bodoni font as Vogue, even gifting him a few pages of advertising as a gesture of good luck. The rest, of course, is history. But that anecdote has always stayed with me because it captures the spirit I dream of for our industry today: one built on brave, human exchanges between men and women with big ideas and even bigger dreams, capable of realizing them together. An environment where culture is expressed through tireless work, done with heart, never losing sight of the true essence of our business: people. Especially those who stay by your side for a lifetime, because they believe in a vision they feel a part of. Mr. Armani understood that nothing gives dignity to a person like work, and I’ve always sensed that this was precisely what he wanted to instill in his team.
He always managed to make time for us journalists, offering warmth and attention without too many words-he saved those for when they truly mattered. I still cherish his well-wishes for my wedding and the birth of my daughter, as well as the compliments he occasionally offered when an article or photograph really captured the essence of his creations. He wanted his fashion to be understood and brought to life, which is why he supported our work even when others questioned it. Once, he even responded in our magazine to a letter sent by a child to an anonymous Giorgio Armani mailbox. Luca (8 years old, almost 9) wanted to show him his personal collection of modern space-suits: camouflage suits, super-fast suits and one with the power to make you invisible. He wrote, “Please let me know if you liked them.” Mr. Armani responded with wonder and gratitude, “I’m so pleased you thought of me. I wish I could make them, because they’re magical. They make you jump, fly, make you invisible, and they would certainly be very useful in this difficult and complicated time. Never stop dreaming! Giorgio Armani.” It was 2020, at the height of Covid, and there we were, witnessing an unexpected, extraordinary exchange of letters about fashion between an eight-year-old boy and an eighty-five-year-old man.
