Family, pasta, cake, wine, and dancing—many of the ingredients at Brunello Cucinelli’s 70th birthday party last night were typical of an Italian festa di compleanno.
Less typical was that Martha Stewart stirred the pasta before it was served, that the wine came from the birthday boy’s own vineyards, and that before they tasted either, the 500 or so guests witnessed what was effectively Cucinelli’s first-ever fashion show (he said it wasn’t really a show, but effectively it was), held in the Cucinelli-constructed amphitheater of his brand’s Umbrian home, Solomeo.
Amongst the 60-ish models were Bianca Balti, Tony Ward, Mark Vanderloo, Eva Herzigova, and Lucky Blue Smith. They crunched down the gravel at sunset and stood in three tiers of the theater’s koilon, beneath a four meter bust of the Roman emperor, Hadrian. The guests they faced, Stewart aside, included Patrick Dempsey, Vanessa Kirby, Ashley Park, David Gandy, Emma Thynn, and Jonathan Bailey. Absolutely everyone, as per the party’s dress code, wore shades of beige.
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Since launching his brand in 1978 Cucinelli has been dedicated to the creation of wearable harmony: an infinite progression of serene human facades, all defined by an interplay of tone, texture, and proportion. It’s subtle stuff, and the tranquility of the product belies the drama—and hard work—behind Cucinelli’s apparently effortless rise to become one of the most significant independent luxury brands in the world.
In a brief speech after the models had walked, Cucinelli spoke about growing up as a farmer’s son in a house without electricity, of meeting his wife Federica when they were still teenagers, and of the personal philosophy that has sustained his rise. Like his garments, that philosophy is informed by classical tradition—he cited Seneca, St. Dominic, Dante, and Confucius , amongst others—which is then rigorously applied to the conditions of the contemporary world.
“It comes from the heart,” Cucinelli told Vogue earlier of his ideological modus operandi. “I try to follow a social contract with creation that sustains our relationship with our environment, technology, and each other—these are the great themes that I believe in. The idea behind this dinner is to share gratitude with all of those who have helped us build and share this culture. I’m also giving thanks to my family for everything they have given me, and to the philosophers and thinkers who have somehow helped to form me.”
At the conclusion of his speech Cucinelli dwelt on his advice for the future—an optimistic section which at least partly seemed directed towards his daughters Carolina and Camilla. When asked what, if he could, he would advise his own 20-year-old self to do, Cucinelli laughed and said: “to try and soften the natural arrogance that comes with youth, and to fully believe in the value of friendship. Plus, as Spinoza taught me, not to focus on judging others. And to remember the three tenets of Roman Law; to live honestly, to harm nobody, and to each their own.”
In the oftentimes cynical world of luxury, Cucinelli at 70 remains a highly unusual paragon of absolute sincerity. This he underlined before cutting into a millefeuille enormous enough to fuel the dance floor antics of those 500 guests. “Diet,” he sighed: “has always been my biggest sacrifice.” Auguri, Brunello!