B.C. stands for Brunello Cucinelli. It is also the name of an ongoing seasonal “philosophy” campaign that sees acronym-fitting phrases printed on Cucinelli’s menswear. Last season it was “Be Courageous,” and during this Zoom interview with Cucinelli and his team in their beautiful H.Q. in Solomeo, Umbria, next spring’s phrase—printed on T-shirts with Steve Jobs-y extra-wide rib collars designed to be worn under tailored jackets, or with discretely luxurious track separates—was revealed as “Be Conscious.”
B.C. is very conscious indeed of the challenges represented by the global pandemic, but during this call—which he’d scheduled immediately before a call with an Italian government minister—he revealed himself to be fundamentally optimistic, business-wise. “At the moment we are dedicating our time to planning 2021, 22, and 23. This situation, I think, will pass. This is temporary. And it is not a structural change, as we saw in 2008. Now for certain industries it is a very difficult time, for sure, but…we are the same company we were in February. We have not let anybody go, we have paid everybody’s salary, and we have not offered discounts to anyone.”
That last point—the discounts—was a reference to the aftermath of the global financial crisis of 2007 and 2008, after which shell-shocked luxury retailers were panicked into offering widespread discounts to clear merchandise that spooked customers were not buying. This worked in the short-term, but created a problem that was long-term: Customers expected luxury to be available on the cheap.
This year’s crisis has created a similar surplus of unsold goods, which for B.C. represents stock worth $30 million (at retail). Rather than give it away at a price that damages the value of his brand, he is giving it all away, for nothing, in a manner that will sustain that value. The designer announced back in July that the surplus is to be distributed free of charge to groups and organizations that have a need and are doing good works. Today Cucinelli, who is normally pretty unflappable, could not quite Be Casual as he mentioned Sharon Stone had called the other day to learn more about the donation program. Through the Zoom, were those Blushing Cheeks?
Like Sharon, I wondered how that program works. “It’s very simple,” the designer said. “In any part of the world, if you have a friend, for example, who has a small organization that is in need, I will send them a size run that will be appropriate to where you are; so, lighter if you are in Tokyo, heavier if you are in Vancouver. The gifts come in the same packaging in which they leave the factory. The idea is that the person who proposes the recipient acts as the guarantor. I want this to be a project of many small, curated donations, an intimate project.”
It’s clever: The turning of the crisis of unsold stock into an opportunity of virtuous seeding, through which a global network of new, potential B.C. wearers are introduced to his clothes while the aura of all is blamelessly polished.
That minister was about to get Zooming, so Cucinelli Bade Ciao. A senior member of his design team and three models came onscreen to show the spring 2021 collection that recipients of the company’s philanthropy might well be interested in. Suiting was “spezzato”—broken down into single elements mixed with French-seam denim and interjected with stripes. There were, in truth, no radical departures from the B.C. philosophy of exquisitely fabricated, conservatively expressive, Master of the Universe wear. There was an interesting section of informal outerwear fabricated in a nylon whose origin product was sugar cane, not the usual petrochemicals. It was all endlessly mix-and-matchable: Once you’ve been exposed to a B.C. gateway garment, you can be lost forever in the pleasurable urge to acquire more. Before he’d signed off, Cucinelli had concluded: “What we need to maintain is humility, courage, creativity—and we have to be serious.” B.C. seems sure of the outcome, even as it remains TBC.
