November Editorial

When I entered the room designated for hair and makeup with a Crida garment bag in my arms, I saw the women sitting before the mirrors turn and look at me with interest. They were all different, yet they shared a common trait: a smile on their faces and eyes filled with curiosity at a new experience. We were at the Fairmont Hotel in Monte Carlo, the heart of luxury and social life in the Principality, where Daniela and I—who never stand still—had come to host a pop-up with our dresses to meet Monegasque clients and friends. But here, the audience was different. Looking closely at these women, some around our age and others younger, they had something unique and special about them: some had very short hair that was just starting to grow back; others (as I would realize later while dressing them) had only one breast, scars, or dressings from recent surgeries. They were cancer patients supported by an organization (contact@ecoutecancerreconfort.org) that assists them in post-operative recovery—the most difficult moment in the life of a woman who, after such a procedure, feels stripped of her femininity and beauty. The wonderful idea conceived by Vera Facchetti, the event organizer, was to give these “warriors” an unforgettable moment of visibility through a fashion show that Crida enthusiastically joined. To be clear, it wasn’t anything strictly original or revolutionary—initiatives of this kind have been around for a long time and many have become highly successful over the years—but if an idea is beautiful and does good for others, why not replicate it? In this case, copying is legitimate and more than welcome.

I share this reflection because I was struck by a controversy raised by Raptus and Rose—a brand I admire precisely because for years it has staged a grand fashion show with patients who have faced and defeated cancer—against another maison, Antonio Marras. The latter had created, with his characteristic poetic touch, about twenty dresses for as many cancer patients who, by walking the runway, demonstrated their strength and highlighted their beauty, sending a powerful message of solidarity and hope. The argument was: “they stole our idea, doing something similar to what we have successfully done for a long time.” Fashion is about creativity and novelty, of course, but how many times does it serenely copy from past archives or other realities? In this case, copying and replicating an initiative that restores confidence to women in a moment of fragility—placing them at the center of a universe usually represented by far more famous but predictable brand ambassadors—seems to me not just a non-issue, but a beautiful opportunity.

Our small Monegasque fashion show was not the subject of any controversy, partly because it had no ambitions for massive visibility nor the communicative power of the others I mentioned. It doesn’t matter. The intent was simply to make these women, who needed to be admired and applauded, feel happy and like protagonists for a day with their own beauty; and that is exactly what happened.

Every time a woman steps out of a dressing room in a Crida dress to look in the mirror and see how she looks, it is a powerful emotion for us. But following the preparations for that show, choosing with these fragile yet determined women the dress best suited to their bodies, deciding on accessories, and finally watching them enter the room looking beautiful in long gowns of colorful silk—eyes shining and smiles on their faces—was a rainbow of emotions we will never forget. Never like that day were we so proud to have created elegant yet easy garments that look good on everyone and bring joy, cheer, and style to those who wear them.