Over the summer, Miuccia Prada called Capri C.E.O. John Idol, who was in the process of selling Versace to her for $1.4 billion, with a fascinating request. Mrs. Prada, according to sources familiar with the conversation, asked that Dario Vitale, her former longtime acolyte and the new creative director of the brand, not stage a runway show in September.
On some level, the ask was completely understandable. Versace was set for a transformation after the acquisition closed, and who knew what form the new strategy would take. Moreover, nobody knew what to expect from Vitale, who had joined Versace just before the deal with the Prada Group materialized.
At first, the Versace team did the necessary maintenance, and told the press that the show would be reduced to an “intimate presentation.” Then, Versace C.E.O. Emmanuel Gintzburger took a significant, undeniably gutsy risk and let Vitale stage his original vision: a runway debut, which ended up being fully, dramatically staged, taking place in Milan’s oldest museum. At first, it seemed to pay off. The show was mesmerizing—a hit with critics, editors, and buyers alike—and Vitale became an immediate Person of Interest within the fashion community. The advertising campaigns were working, too. Meanwhile, Team Versace pressed on through the fall, waiting patiently for regulatory bodies to allow the deal to close—and to see how Miuccia, who is also a close friend of ousted creative director (and family heir) Donatella Versace, would respond. After all, Vitale’s exit from the Prada Group, where he was mostly recently designing Miu Miu, was fraught. (Prada is a business that prizes loyalty—and that starts at the top.)
Now we know. On Thursday, about 48 hours after the deal officially closed, Prada fired Vitale. Lorenzo Bertelli, the Prada heir and Versace’s new executive chairman, announced his ouster, which was positioned as a mutual parting of ways, in a companywide email.
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Vitale, according to people familiar with his thinking, didn’t see it coming. Gintzburger’s team, though, must have known it was a possibility. Succession planning at the brand had been a labored, long-gestating challenge, and the process, which began before Tapestry’s botched acquisition of Capri, was complicated by Versace family politics. Years ago, Riccardo Tisci was meant to join the Versace business—press releases were already written—but things fell apart at the last minute over simple semantics. Donatella was even said to have later become interested in Vitale, but clashed with Gintzburger in other ways. At the same time, her awkward transition from visionary to global brand ambassador did not sit right with her loyal employees.
Alas, this was a doomed situation from the start, and the fact that Vitale’s first collection was so good—magic, even—was essentially beside the point. As with any breakup, the only people who know the truth are the ones at the heart of the matter. It’s just too bad they couldn’t get past their conflict in the name of fashion.
Presumably, this isn’t the last shoe to drop. According to the Bertelli memo, Gintzburger is staying put, at least for now. I gained a new respect for the executive when he pushed forward with Vitale despite being directed to do otherwise, and I could see the Prada Group executive team admiring the chutzpah, even if his choice was immediately reversed. No matter what, though, Versace will be reorganized based on clinical decision-making over the next year.
Of course, everyone is asking who might be up next. There’s always a chance the Prada Group will bring back Donatella in some sort of creative capacity, pairing her with a partner. But I think that’s unlikely. My sense is that they’ll utilize her more fully as a brand ambassador, given all the goodwill she inspires and her massive audience, including 12 million Instagram followers. In Europe, there is speculation around Hedi Slimane, pinned to the ongoing “apartment in Milan” conspiracy theory, but that overlooks simple economics. (I also don’t see a world where Slimane and Raf Simons operate within the same group.)
Pieter Mulier is everyone’s favorite choice in the musical chairs game, always. While he seems more committed than ever to Alaïa, where he just built a new studio, he also has a long history working with Simons, and is capable of really anything, design-wise. (Interestingly, he speaks fondly of early Versace in the new issue of Self Service.) More creative people could come up with more names, but there is also a chance they have not yet hired a new designer, and the quick defenestration was a signal that they are going to completely overhaul the business—and fast.
I’ve never seen something like this happen before, and I am not sure we will again. For now, though, let this be a lesson about the industry and how it might stand 10 years from now. There will be dozens of essays and Instagram posts about the tragedy of Vitale’s exit, citing the lack of patience and foresight among executives. But when it comes down to it, this is an emotional business, and an emotional product: Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. But you’ve got to take risks.
