There are collections that demand attention, and others that quietly earn it. Venus in Furs, Alessandro De Benedetti’s latest collection for Romeo Gigli, belongs to the second category. It doesn’t rely on spectacle or viral moments. It doesn’t chase trends or offer immediate answers. Instead, it invites you to slow down. To look again. To notice how a sleeve falls, how a drape shifts with movement, how a silhouette reveals itself only over time.
That approach feels almost radical today. Fashion has become increasingly immediate, designed to be consumed in seconds before disappearing into an endless stream of images. Collections are often judged by a single look on Instagram, while clothes are expected to make an instant statement. Mystery has become rare. So has subtlety.
Romeo Gigli has always existed outside that rhythm. Long before “quiet luxury” became a buzzword, the house was already speaking a softer language. Its vision of femininity has never been about power dressing or obvious seduction. It is emotional, instinctive and deeply poetic. The woman comes before the garment, and the garment simply follows her.
Taking over such a distinctive legacy could easily become an exercise in nostalgia. For Alessandro De Benedetti, however, the challenge has never been about recreating the past. His ambition is to understand the spirit that shaped Romeo Gigli and allow it to evolve naturally. Heritage, in his hands, becomes a conversation rather than a destination.
His own creative journey makes that balance particularly fascinating. Before Romeo Gigli, De Benedetti trained in Thierry Mugler’s haute couture atelier, a world defined by sculptural tailoring, architectural silhouettes and cinematic drama. At first glance, the two universes couldn’t seem more different. Yet listening to him speak, the connection becomes surprisingly clear. Precision and softness are not opposites. Structure can coexist with poetry. Technical perfection only matters if it serves emotion.
That philosophy runs through every look in Venus in Furs. Fabrics don’t imprison the body. They move with it. Volumes change as the wearer walks. Nothing feels static. Nothing feels overexplained. Every garment leaves space for interpretation, and perhaps that is what makes the collection so compelling.
In this conversation, De Benedetti reflects on why mystery has become one of fashion’s greatest luxuries, what it means to inherit one of Italy’s most poetic maisons, and why silence can still be the strongest creative statement. He speaks about cinema, memory and movement with the same sensitivity that defines his collections, revealing a vision of fashion that values longevity over immediacy and emotion over noise.
At a time when so much of the industry competes to be seen, Romeo Gigli continues to offer something far more enduring: the pleasure of discovery. Not everything needs to reveal itself at once. The most memorable clothes, much like the most memorable stories, are the ones that keep unfolding long after the first encounter.
1. In our review, we described Venus in Furs as a collection that brings mystery back into fashion. In an era when everything seems expected to be understood instantly, do you see mystery as a form of luxury?
Absolutely. We live in a time where everything has to be immediately understandable, explained, and consumed. Mystery, on the other hand, requires time, imagination, and participation. To me, it has become a form of luxury because it invites people to pause, observe, and interpret. A garment shouldn’t reveal everything at first glance. It should continue to unfold over time, like a great novel or a film that only fully reveals itself once you’ve truly experienced it.
2. Today, many brands talk about heritage, but very few succeed in making it genuinely contemporary. When working on Romeo Gigli, how do you know you’re moving the house forward rather than simply looking back?
To me, heritage isn’t an archive to copy, it’s a way of thinking. I’m not interested in reproducing what Romeo Gigli has already done. What interests me is understanding his approach and translating it into the present. If a collection preserves that same sensitivity, poetry, and freedom of expression while still speaking to today’s woman, then I feel I’m helping the house evolve rather than merely celebrating its past.
3. You inherited a maison with an incredibly strong identity. Was there ever a moment when you thought, “This is something I should never touch”?
I’ve never felt the need to change the soul of Romeo Gigli because I grew up with his creative universe throughout my academic journey. You can evolve proportions, draping, materials, and the contemporary language of fashion, but not that delicate sensitivity that exists between the body and the garment, between storytelling and memory. That intangible heritage deserves to be protected. My role is to bring it into the present by blending it with my own creative emotions.
4. If Romeo Gigli walked into your studio today and saw Venus in Furs, what do you think his first reaction would be?
I can’t know what he would say, and perhaps that’s exactly how it should be. What I would hope, however, is that he could sense one thing: every creative decision begins with what feels like my own personal enigma.
5. In your collections, garments never seem to dominate the body. Instead, the fabric appears to move alongside it. Is that simply your idea of elegance, or is it also a response to the way contemporary fashion has evolved?
For me, creativity begins with movement. A garment only truly comes alive once it’s worn. I’ve never been interested in clothes that impose a shape or force the body into one. I prefer garments that accompany the wearer, that breathe with them. Bias-cut fabric naturally creates new waves and unexpected volumes as the body moves, making every gesture part of the design itself.
6. Your creative training took place in Thierry Mugler’s haute couture atelier, while Romeo Gigli has always embodied a much quieter and more poetic vision of femininity. Where do these two worlds meet in your work?
Many people see them as complete opposites, but I’ve never experienced them that way. From Mugler, I learned the discipline of construction: garments built through countless geometric cuts, sculptural outerwear, and the cinematic storytelling that defined haute couture. With Romeo Gigli, I rediscovered poetry, emotion, and the ability to create ethereal, dreamlike garments. My work exists precisely at the intersection of those two dimensions: the precision of construction and the lightness of emotion.
7. Is there one look from Venus in Furs that you see as the manifesto of the collection? And is there another that feels deeply personal, almost like a self-portrait?
The collection’s manifesto is probably a lavender duchesse gown constructed from thirty-five folded ruffles layered onto one another. It strikes the perfect balance between structure and softness, capturing everything I wanted to express: mystery, sensuality and freedom. The reversible feather fur lined with ivory silk duchesse, on the other hand, represents my own dual creative identity.
8. Today, many designers create clothes with social media in mind. When you’re designing a collection, do you still think first about how a garment moves, ages and lives with the person wearing it?
An image lasts only a few seconds, whereas a garment should stay with someone for many years. I think about the way it falls on the body, how the fabric evolves over time and how it becomes part of someone’s everyday life. I believe the true quality of a piece reveals itself through experience, not simply in a photograph.
9. Romeo Gigli has always drawn inspiration from art, theatre, literature and cinema without ever turning those references into simple quotations. What cultural obsessions inspire you today? Is there a book, a film or an artist you keep returning to?
I never look for inspiration in perfect images. I’m drawn to works that preserve a sense of mystery, those that continue to change every time you experience them. I often return to the visionary cinema of Alejandro Jodorowsky, the contemplative world of Andrei Tarkovsky and the rigorous, symbolic aesthetic of Peter Greenaway. They are filmmakers who don’t explain. They evoke. They invite you into their universe and leave space for the viewer to complete it through their own sensitivity. I also continue to love European cinema from the 1960s and 1970s, as well as the great couture of the 1940s and 1950s. Not out of nostalgia, but because they belong to a time when every detail came from genuine research and every garment had the power to tell a story.
10. At a time when fashion often seems driven by noise and the constant pursuit of visibility, Romeo Gigli continues to speak with a quieter voice. Has that become the house’s most radical statement?
Perhaps it has. Today, silence is almost revolutionary. I believe elegance never needs to raise its voice to be heard. Romeo Gigli has always chosen discretion, and that ability to stand apart from the noise is precisely what continues to make the house feel so contemporary.
11. Finally, what’s the greatest compliment someone could pay a Romeo Gigli garment? And what’s the one thing you hope no one ever says about your work?
The greatest compliment would be hearing someone say, “When I wear this dress, I feel like I’m part of a story.” To me, fashion should never lose its narrative. The one thing I would never want to hear is that one of my collections is predictable. Fashion should always leave room for surprise, emotion and discovery. Once everything becomes obvious, creativity loses its meaning.
