PIERPAOLO PICCIOLI | 2021

Interview Filep Motwary

For Pierpaolo Piccioli, fashion isn’t about authority—it’s about the magic that happens when a tightly knit team nurtures a single idea. Maybe it’s this generosity, combined with his undeniable talent, that propelled him to the top at Valentino—a house so deeply tied to its founder that stepping into those shoes was no small feat.
Since its birth in Rome in 1960 by designer Valentino Garavani and businessman Giancarlo Giammetti, Valentino has been synonymous with jet-set glamour, aristocratic elegance, extravagant fantasy, and extreme luxury. The women who embraced Valentino from day one lived privileged lives in exchange for the dreamlike creations he crafted.
Then, in September 2007, Valentino himself stepped down as creative director, passing the torch to Pierpaolo Piccioli and his collaborator Maria Grazia Chiuri—who until then had been designing all the company’s accessories.
Over the next eight years, the duo worked tirelessly to redefine one of fashion’s most iconic brands, tailoring it to the needs of the modern consumer. They injected fresh, contemporary energy into the otherwise restrained style of Valentino Garavani, winning over a younger audience that has always dictated what’s cool—and in doing so, dramatically boosted the brand’s yearly revenue in record time.
A graduate of Rome’s Istituto Europeo di Design, Piccioli met Maria Grazia Chiuri through a mutual friend in the early ’80s. Before their Valentino days, they worked together at Fendi starting in 1989—a creative partnership lasting nearly two decades. In July 2016, they parted ways: Chiuri became Dior’s lead designer, while Piccioli stayed on at Valentino as the sole creative director. An unexpected move that proved wise for both houses.
Our interview with Pierpaolo was originally scheduled for last September. We negotiated dates amid summer holidays, hopeful the health crisis had eased and life was returning to normal.

We planned to meet in Paris at Fashion Week’s start. But as the days neared, a second pandemic wave spread, extinguishing that hope. Panic set in over another lost season, pushing designers to explore alternative ways to present their collections. The quickest found a voice on social media. Disappointed and heavy-hearted, I postponed my eagerly awaited trip. Meanwhile, Valentino informed me by email that the show would move to Milan, not Paris as planned. I had long imagined meeting Pierpaolo and wandering through Valentino’s enchanting world. Instead, we spoke two months later via Zoom—him in Rome, me in Athens. Calm, upbeat, surrounded by art, books, and fashion magazines, he explained what happened with the summer 2021 prêt-à-porter show.
“It was impossible to predict this,” he said. “We had to react quickly to avoid damage.

There weren’t many options, and staging a show in Paris like before would’ve been wrong. Honestly, we’d never thought of Milan as an alternative—maybe because we’d never faced such a deadlock. For me, this wasn’t a ‘Plan B’ but a chance to present the collection from a new angle. I’d been focusing more on identity than aesthetics, wanting to give deeper meaning to the changes I proposed at Valentino when I became creative director. I needed to break free from the house’s codes—without abandoning what defines it, like layered materials, roses, and colors—but without pinning down a specific aesthetic. I wanted to emphasize diversity as a value and share my desire to live in a borderless world. I believe freedom of expression is crucial. The codes I initially wanted to shed actually proved useful—they helped me say something different about the moment we’re living in. The Milan show allowed me to see things more calmly, more maturely, and, in a way, challenge fashion’s obsession with constant evolution and progress.”

The decision to move the show to Milan shaved off ten crucial days from the thirty they had left before the presentation—Paris, after all, is the last stop on the fashion week calendar. “My team and I decided to face the challenge boldly,” Piccioli explains. “Despite the meticulous planning that defines our atelier, reshuffling the schedule was a nightmare. We had to keep everything balanced in a much shorter timeframe. I wondered if I could still convey my messages about diversity, individuality, and celebrating our differences under these new conditions. On top of designing the collection, I was overseeing everything—from makeup to hair. It was a moment that brought me even closer to my team, and I’m truly grateful for that. I also saw it as the perfect chance to support Italian fashion—why not?”
So, the grandiose halls of the Parisian Salomon de Rothschild—home to many of Valentino’s dreamy shows—gave way to the industrial vibes of Milan’s Fonderie Macchi, a foundry operating for nearly a century. This instinctive yet evolutionary choice of venue, so unlike anything Valentino had done before, underscores Piccioli’s daring approach to redefining the brand’s aesthetic language.
Even through a screen, the show was an emotionally charged experience, thick with allure. The hypnotic voice of singer and producer Labrinth, whom Piccioli entrusted with the soundtrack, only deepened the spell. “It was vital to show these clothes live, even if to fewer guests. We followed every safety measure—distancing, testing—just so we wouldn’t have to go fully digital and lose the authenticity of the experience. Though everything moved slowly, carefully,” he recalls. “In the end, backstage drama doesn’t matter if you hit your goal. Our messages did get across. For us, this was a positive way to face the challenges we’re living through. We didn’t deny the problem with the show, but we wanted to respond to it.”

Valentino’s Summer ’21 collection isn’t punk, nor is it streetwear. It’s somewhere in between—and that sparked a range of reactions, which Piccioli loved. “A delicate piece of lace treated like art on a garment—rather than an entire dress made for the red carpet—reveals a mindset rooted in respect for craft and knowledge. Like the knitted roses, an old Valentino Garavani idea we revived to showcase our love for handiwork, even in a ready-to-wear collection. Fashion, especially in recent decades, has felt dictatorial. Today, it must be assertive. Through this show, we aimed to highlight the beauty in every individual. Our cast was made up of girls with personality, not models with uniform looks chosen solely for appearance. Diversity was key. For instance, if a girl arrived with bold makeup, we amplified it, showcasing it as part of the show’s story. No one was forced into anything. Romanticism can come from strength as much as sensitivity. For me, it’s much more meaningful to freely express your vulnerabilities than to hide them. You have to have guts!”
I encouraged him to share his thoughts on revolution in fashion—whether such a thing still exists today—and asked if he believes fashion can be a path to liberation, like it was in the ’50s with Christian Dior, or later with pioneers like Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, Katharine Hamnett, and Franco Moschino, each changing the game in their own way.

“There’s a new order emerging, mainly driven by the younger generation,” he replies thoughtfully. “I believe the revolution is already here. It’s just waiting for someone to document it. I don’t think it started in fashion—actually, fashion might even dilute the revolution we’re living now. This brings up the challenge of preserving haute couture’s core values in today’s world. For me, creation is rooted in the present. That means I love couture for its extravagance, its uniqueness, its boldness—because it has no limits. With these tools, I can creatively express the idea of difference.”
He goes on, “Haute couture is usually defined by terms like ‘savoir-faire’ and ‘les petites mains’*—the skilled hands behind the scenes—but I believe it shouldn’t be confined to those alone. Through its uniqueness, haute couture reflects the world as it evolves. The younger generation understands this because these values are timeless. Although when I watch videos about ‘les petites mains,’ I sometimes feel it’s an outdated way to describe the craftsmanship behind a garment. It’s not enough anymore. For me, couture equals humanity. Design celebrates the greatness of individuality that comes through hard work. These are secrets shared among small communities of women in ateliers, passed down through generations. Haute couture gives you the freedom to be as extravagant as you want. Two years ago, I created a collection fully dedicated to flowers, shown exclusively by Black models—a first for Valentino. It was common to see Black girls in ready-to-wear shows or streetwear campaigns, but never in haute couture. In the ’50s and ’60s, it was unthinkable for fashion houses to dress Black women for editorials in magazines like Ebony or Jet. That history is still fresh in our memory, and I wanted to highlight that.

Two days after the show, I received an email from a Black woman thanking me—because this collection gave her grandmother a chance to dream of haute couture. That was success for me. Our work should aim for a united world, the most beautiful version of it.”

I asked if he hopes that people attending his shows not only admire the clothes but also feel the messages they carry. “Fortunately, fashion does have a political dimension that shines through the imagery,” he says. “That’s encouraging. A designer’s mission is to propose ideas, ways of thinking. I’m not making art—I design clothes for a community. The need for change, especially in recent years, has been growing, and it’s truly inspiring to witness. For me personally, fashion has been a language of communication. It’s the best way to choose the people in my life—my friends, my house supporters—we all share the same values.”
When comparing yesterday with today, both Valentino Garavani and Pierpaolo Piccioli share a certain view of the female body: democratic and utterly romantic. “Maybe that’s because I seek grace in a body, not beauty,” he smiles. “Grace is a forgotten word—more Renaissance than modern—it’s something a painter would capture rather than a fashion designer. When you look for grace in a woman, you’re searching for balance between her inner and outer worlds. I feel the people I choose for the runway have a romantic quality that’s at once rebellious, sensual, honest, and authentic. Each of us holds many shades that come together in harmony.

Grace lives in every personality, and everyone has their own. It’s not just about physical traits, and finally, diversity is accepted as a value in itself.”
After every show or photoshoot, on his personal Instagram and Valentino’s, Pierpaolo surrounds himself with his team—seamstresses, embroiderers, pattern makers, and models—showing a solidarity many designers shy away from. “For me, secrecy is outdated. I enjoy being part of a team that shares the same passion for this work. Only this way can we embrace the people we create for. You’ll never see me with pins in my hand or sewing on a dress form, simply because my team does it far better.

My talent lies in the idea and explaining what I want to achieve. I always include my collaborators in my vision—I like to start my collections backwards. I don’t see my team as just executors. Instead, I claim their love and care, and I give it back. This is not a battlefield; it’s a work environment where we all walk the same path. It’s important that our audience sees us as a family—or at least a harmonious team. The great revolution in fashion can’t be dictatorial. It has to be generous—a big hug for the people.”

**“Les petites mains” refers to the skilled seamstresses who dedicate their lives to bringing haute couture creations to life in fashion houses.

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