September 4, 2025 |
Like Queen Elizabeth II or Maggie Smith, Giorgio Armani, who has died age 91 was one of those rarefied humans who you thought might live forever – not because of his already advanced years, but courtesy of some preternatural longevity conferred upon him by the gods.
When exceptionally well-known people die, the loss extends beyond their immediate families and touches all of us. When exceptionally talented people die, that loss feels as final as any other, with the added piquancy that the world will never see them create any more of the art that touched so many.
Like any artist, Mr Armani lived to create. He designed with a single-minded focus that remained steadfast throughout his life. He was as prolific as he was skilled, presiding over the brand that took his name, as well as Emporio Armani and Armani Exchange, in 2005 he added a couture line, Armani Privé, another string to his bow. An early adopter of brand extension, he also pioneered Armani Casa, Armani Beauty and Armani Hotels & Resorts, as well as putting his name to art exhibitions, live music performances, sporting events and even chocolates. He was also a passionate supporter of upcoming talent, inviting then-fledgling Italian designers to show at Armani Teatro, his custom-built show space on Milan’s Via Bergognone.
Few who attended a show there would disagree that Armani Teatro was special. Rather than the cold, hard, bench chairs on which we sat for the other 10 hours of the day, it had sumptuous theatre-style seats, clearly numbered and delineated. It also had a proper bathroom. No show venues had bathrooms. Maybe one broken toilet to be shared among 1,000, but nothing that actually flushed. If it seems off to mention Mr Armani’s bathroom, I apologise, with the caveat that I think he would be pleased to be remembered for his thoughtfulness and decorum as well as his clothes.
But if Armani was the ultimate details man, I have to confess, very guiltily, that in the late Nineties and early 2000s, going to an Armani show could sometimes feel like a chore. As a young fashion editor in my twenties, if the trousers weren’t three-legged, I wasn’t interested: my palette was as yet too immature to appreciate his unique form of minimalism and restraint, and I found his collections hard to write about. Maybe I didn’t ‘feel’ his clothes because I wasn’t ready to wear them, a statement which says everything about my lack of critical faculty back then and nothing about his talent.
By the time I was offered an interview with him in 2011, my palette had matured. As a mother of two working in a creative industry that could still, at times, be surprisingly corporate, I was also fully appreciative of the ‘armour’ effect derived from an Armani suit. Anyone who’s worn one will understand that, from a tailoring perspective, they are unimpeachable. Which means that, from a psychological perspective, they are impenetrable. Or rather, the wearer is. In an Armani suit, you are a mistress of the universe.
If you are a fashion editor, Mr Armani was just one of those designers you had to interview. Taking place in what was then his newly-opened Armani Hotel in Milan, my interview with him was conducted with the highest number of superfluous people in the room that I can ever recall – eight in total, with only one being necessary (the translator). I secretly, well, perhaps now not so secretly, think that Mr Armani understood English perfectly and that the translator was a comfort blanket that allowed easy recourse to the ‘but I was misquoted’ defence. This was understandable.
Three glasses of champagne were placed on the table just as Mr Armani walked in. Immediately, the atmosphere tensed. He was dressed immaculately in a white shirt, a navy jacket and trousers, worn with pristine white leather sneakers (‘very small feet’, I wrote in my notepad). He was tanned, his blue eyes even more piercing in the flesh. The interview was unremarkable, as is often the way with such tightly controlled circumstances and people. Although he did answer my risky question about President Berlusconi, who had just resigned in disgrace over a sex scandal and much financial impropriety. “I won’t make any political comment,” he said, going on to recount seeing him on TV. “To me, he appeared so tender. I felt a sort of tenderness for him because he looked so very disillusioned. Maybe he was disillusioned by himself.”
Joan Didion described herself as “temperamentally unobtrusive” and Mr Armani had the same air, a man happier observing than speaking, or at least preferring to communicate through his clothes. “I’ve been wearing blue for so long that I can’t remember when I started,” he told the New York Times in 2023. “I chose it because it matches my personality – pragmatic and reserved – and because it helps my collaborators. They focus their attention on my actions and my words, not on what I wear.”
He preferred the world to focus on his clothes, priding himself on making every wearer feel like the best version of themselves, whether she was Sophia Loren, Cate Blanchett, Julia Roberts or an unknown. If some brands made ‘quiet luxury’ their entire personality, Mr Armani made it his life’s work. Stealth wealth? He invented it. Not that he’d have had truck with either phrase, for if there is one thing he always rose above, it was the faddishness of trends. If he wanted to show loon pants in the middle of a skinny jean cycle, then loon pants he would show. His mindset was as independent as his business, as his was one of the few leading Italian brands to remain free from international investment.
Born in the northern Italian town of Piacenza, Armani studied medicine at the University of Milan before leaving in 1953 to join the army. After serving for two years, he changed career and became a window dresser at a Milanese department store before working in the menswear department. In the late 1960s, he met Sergio Galeotti, beginning a personal and professional relationship that lasted for until Galeotti’s death from Aids in 1985. With Galeotti’s support, he founded Giorgio Armani in 1975. Always an intensely private man, he was survived by his sister, Rosanna, her son, Andrea, two nieces, Roberta and Silvana, the daughters of his late brother, Sergio, and his partner Leo Dell’Orco, who is head of the Men’s Style Office at Armani. A foundation was formed in 2016 to ensure the stability of the company – though it does nothing to address the issue of succession. Namely because Giorgio Armani is impossible to replace.
Photograph by Maria Ziegelböck. Taken from 10+ Issue 2 – EVERYONE, VOCAL, TOGETHER.
