Legal shield for luxury: is this the solution to ending luxury brands’ exploitation of workers?

Reading Time: 7 minutes

Report Rai3: fashion sweatshops and the unbroken link between luxury and labour abuse


While Italy was in the midst of Men’s Fashion Week, Rai3’s Report aired a hard-hitting investigation into the labour exploitation behind the luxury brands now seeking a legal shield. Thetopic itself was not new: recently, media outlets have reported on sweatshops hidden behind the façade of Made in Italy. What Report did differently was to go further—attempting to speak directly with manufacturers, workers and brand owners.

Among the major figures contacted, only Diego Della Valle—chairman of Tod’s Group (Tod’s, Hogan, Fay and Roger Vivier)—agreed to appear on camera. His appearance, however, raised more questions than it answered. The investigation revealed that audits had been conducted within the supply chain, yet Tod’s disregarded their findings.

Some commentators accused Report of daring to criticise an industry that represents a significant share of Italy’s GDP. We strongly disagree. When an industry operates—directly or indirectly—through sweatshop conditions, exposing it is not only legitimate, it is necessary.

Judicial administration and labour abuse


Several luxury brands have been placed under judicial administration over failures to monitor labour exploitation in their supply chains.

Valentino Bags—a company controlled by Valentino and responsible for producing bags for the brand—was among them, alongside Loro Piana, Armani and Dior. In one of the Chinese workshops producing Valentino bags, the Carabinieri found a child playing among fabrics and industrial machinery.

In July 2025, the Milan court ordered judicial administration for Loro Piana, the Italian high‑end clothing brand controlled by LVMH. Investigators found that production had been entrusted to companies that subcontracted work to Chinese workshops where workers were exploited.

Unfinished leather handbags in a sparse workshop, representing the hidden production behind luxury brands seeking a legal shield.

Della Valle: “The Chinese workshops are not our concern”


In October, the Milan Prosecutor’s Office requested preventive judicial administration for Tod’s SpA. The investigation uncovered serious violations of workers’ rights across the subcontracting chain responsible for producing the brand’s goods. Prosecutors stated that the company was aware of these practices, leading to an investigation for caporalato (the gangmaster system).

Following similar measures against multiple fashion brands, Milan prosecutor Paolo Storari also requested a six‑month advertising ban for Tod’s. Through an exclusive interview with Diego Della Valle, Report reconstructed the luxury supply chain: production is outsourced to Italian firms with no manufacturing facilities, which then subcontract to Chinese workshops.

Della Valle argued that responsibility should not extend beyond the first level of the supply chain. This position is deeply problematic. If a brand entrusts production to intermediaries that do not manufacture anything themselves, what does it expect to happen? And why do brands choose this model in the first place?

In the Tod’s case, one of the most serious issues to emerge was the failure to act on clear audit findings. Problems were identified, yet deliberately overlooked.

The attempted legal shield for luxury brands


Against this backdrop, Article 30 of the Small and Medium Enterprises Bill—approved by the Senate and debated in the Chamber of Deputies—attempted to exempt major fashion brands from liability for crimes committed along their production chains.

Widely described as a legal shield for luxury brands, the amendment was eventually withdrawn following protests by trade unions, workers and the Clean Clothes Campaign. It will now return to the Senate.

During his interview with Report, Minister Adolfo Urso stated that caporalato in Italy had been “brought by the Chinese”. A staggering statement that shifts blame away from the structural drivers.

Shifting blame to the lowest—and weakest—links in the chain conveniently ignores who sets prices, who designs supply chains and who ultimately benefits from lower production costs.

Made in Chitaly: the testimony that explains everything


One of the most powerful moments in Report was the testimony of Andrea Parisi, owner of Spectre Srl, a company specialising in the finishing of heels for luxury footwear.

Until recently, Spectre employed 34–35 people and worked for all the major luxury brands. Today, only three workers remain.

Parisi explained how brands outsource work to companies that possess no machinery, which then subcontract—unofficially—to Chinese workshops capable of producing tens of thousands of units at prices that are economically impossible under legal conditions.

A heel paid €0.80 per piece (€1.60 per pair), he explained, should cost at least twice that amount. This pricing mechanism drives law-abiding Italian manufacturers out of the market, depriving them of contracts, revenue, and skilled labour.

“The most serious loss,” Parisi said, “is our workforce.” Competing, he explained, is impossible unless one is willing to break the law.

Andrea Parisi’s most touching words:

“The fashion sector in Italy no longer exists. But at this moment we don’t even have the tools to fight anymore, how are we supposed to go forward? Must our workers be reduced to ‘Vietnam conditions’? What have we come to? Behind subcontracting, lies undeclared labour, lies precarious employment, exploitation. It must be abolished, full stop, and it must be done tomorrow morning. It’s Made in Italy if the workers’ ethics are respected. Otherwise, write on the products ‘Made in Italy 50%’, at least tell the truth.”

A structural system, not an anomaly


The idea of serving luxury products to everyone has generated this system. The so-called democratic luxury.

As Della Valle said: “We survive because people recognise in us an absolute quality. How many people buy a bag or a pair of shoes from me? Many have the money to do so, then there are those who love them, who perhaps don’t have the money, they make a sacrifice, and to those people you can’t say: ‘You’re working your arse off to buy this little thing, and these people are a bunch of wankers.’”

So brands serve entry price products while, at the same time, cut their costs as much as they can to maximise profits. Let’s clearly state this: the idea of democratic luxury is as contradictory as illiberal democracy: it does not exist. It is either one thing or the other.

As Luca Bertazzoni (Report) said: “The point is that those Chinese companies which President Meloni claims to be fighting are now an integral part of the system and continue to be sought by the major fashion brands to maximise profits. Take the case of Mr Yang, whom we had met a year ago after the Carabinieri found Dior bags inside his workshop in Opera, where workers were being exploited.”

Gian Gaetano Bellavia – expert in corporate criminal law, explained further: “The Italian who wins the contract always keeps his own margin, and it’s the Chinese contractor who has to cut his margin. So then the Chinese contractor perhaps goes to a Pakistani, right? Who is even more desperate than the Chinese.”

This system is not limited to handbags or footwear, nor is it an exception. Furthermore, it is not solely an Italian issue—is Dior an Italian brand? And doesn’t LVMH owns Loro Piana? The problem is structural and global. To be clear, it also exists beyond fashion. Yet, this breadth is not a mitigating factor but an aggravating one.

As Bellavia noted, it is a “war among the poor to serve the rich”. Those at the top remain silent, protected by distance, complexity and legal ambiguity.

Final thoughts


In conclusion, this operating system is not new. As young women working in fashion in the late 1990s, we witnessed its gradual consolidation. For over twenty years, opacity has prevailed. If we saw that, how did nobody question what was happening?

Today, instead of dismantling the system, the Italian government proposes a legal shield for luxury.

But when luxury products are made through exploitation, who is responsible? The last link in the chain? Really? Or those who decide to maximise profits by compressing production costs from the top down?

If Italian manufacturing has been decimated, responsibility lies with both political choices and brand strategies. Blaming labour exploitation solely on the weakest links in the chain is not only dishonest—it is shameful.

A legal shield is not the solution. These companies have money, power and structure. They must be responsible for workers’ conditions and for the reality behind their products. Choosing ignorance forfeits accountability.

Luca Bertazzoni offered a definitive direction:

“If high fashion were to abandon the subcontracting chain that allows it to make profits by producing at rock-bottom prices, Italian artisans could go back to work, with full respect for workers’ rights.”

So, forget a legal shield for luxury. The real solution is clear: dismantle the subcontracting chains that allow luxury brands to profit from cut‑price labour. Only then can Italian artisans return to work under conditions that respect dignity and rights.

Ethics. Fairness. A level playing field.

And hold the brands responsible.

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One piece, one story: The Draped Neckline Dress by Marc Le Bihan

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Where sculptural form meets liquid drape — for those who wear an atmosphere, not just a dress


This is The Draped Neckline Dress by Marc Le Bihan.
In a system that produces tonnes of disposable clothing, we curate: one piece, one story. A radical view for ethical and aesthetic resistance — meaningful garments, an expression of good design. Slow fashion—made to last, made by hand.

The Draped Neckline Dress is not merely worn; it is experienced. It is the embodiment of poetic tension — a loose silhouette that offers profound ease, while its double-draped collar creates a focal point of sculptural intensity. A silent, powerful gesture of romantic intellect. It evokes the fluid discipline of modernist sculpture: form that appears both captured and in motion, defined by the gravity of its own fabric.

Windsor. Not merely a colour, but a depth of mood. A rich, complex neutral that holds shadow and light within its weave, lending a painterly quality to the drape. A shade that is both grounding and ethereal.

A moment of modern poetry. The model, with a quiet intensity, wears The Draped Neckline Dress by Marc Le Bihan. Its glove-like sleeves extend with precise intention, while the fluid hem meets a pair of substantial leather boots—an anchoring counterpoint to the dress's softness. Framed within an airy, light-filled space, the blurred forms of plants echo the organic drape. This is not an outfit, but an atmosphere.

Marc Le Bihan’s avant-garde clothing: the anatomy of fluid elegance

  • The detail:
    A double-draped neckline, softly folded and anchored with precise intention. This is its signature, its soul. More than a detail, it is a fixed moment of fluidity — a sculptural frame that introduces a dialogue between structure and softness. It challenges the expected, offering a wearable study in volume and line.
  • The design:
    A loose, knee-length silhouette with asymmetric cuffs and a longer, drifting back hem. Sleeves are extra-long with a glove-like finish. This is the core of its philosophy. The cut suggests effortless, airy movement, yet resolves on the body with a defined, elegant shape. The longer back grants a whisper of drama; the asymmetric cuffs and elongated sleeves provide a subtle, intellectual finish. Ease, meticulously composed.
  • The make:
    Made in France — from a distinctive hand-dyed, wool-blend knit. Not merely a fabric, but a sensorial statement. The blend of viscose, wool, and elastane creates a fabric with memory, weight, and a beautiful, forgiving stretch. It drapes with intention and moves with the body. This is tangible quality — designed to become a second skin.

The Draped Neckline Dress: a timeless addition to a poetic wardrobe


This piece offers confidence through softness. It allows you to move through your world with grace and quiet authority. It understands that true sophistication is the sovereignty over one’s own silhouette.

  • For a cultured afternoon: paired with delicate ankle boots and a single, significant piece of jewellery. A uniform for contemplation and creation.
  • For the urban landscape: paired with wide-leg trousers and beneath a tailored, deconstructed coat. An interplay of soft structure and deliberate, fluid movement.
  • For the understated evening: worn alone, its glove-like sleeves the sole adornment, with sleek heels. The apex of considered, feminine power.

For the modern humans who curate, not consume — whose wardrobe is a library of dog-eared favourites, each piece a chapter in their story.

🌟 The Draped Neckline Dress – Marc Le Bihan
Limited edition. Like a line of poetry—meant to be felt.

🖤 To enquire: DM  @suite123 WhatsApp | Email

Available by appointment for shopping in Milano or worldwide—from screen to doorstep. From our hands to your daily ritual.

P.S. Ask us about the French art of drapé and how this dress masters it. Or how to style the asymmetric hem to highlight movement. We are here for the conversations, not just the transactions.

Footnotes: The intelligence of this piece lies in its balanced contradiction. It offers the psychological comfort of a forgiving silhouette alongside the refined polish of meticulous draping, resolving a timeless sartorial desire. It proves that avant-garde design does not sacrifice wearability—it elevates it. Emotion, refined to its most powerful expression.

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Valentino, the emperor of fashion

Reading Time: 4 minutes

More than a designer, a keeper of beauty — an empire built on devotion, not disruption


Valentino Garavani, the emperor of fashion, passed away on January 19, at the age of 93, in Rome — the city he loved and never truly left. In an era defined by constant noise, speed, and relentless reinvention, his legacy stands apart. Not because it chased trends, but because it cultivated a world of timeless elegance, patience, and enduring beauty.

This is not an attempt to retrace a career — there is already more than enough of that. Instead, this is an effort to understand what Valentino can still teach us. What remains relevant. What the fashion industry — and perhaps creative work as a whole — risks forgetting.

Born in Voghera in 1932, Valentino’s aesthetic awakening came early. He often recalled a formative moment at the opera in Barcelona, where he saw women wrapped in red. That vision — colour, drama, ceremony — sparked a lifelong devotion to clothing as celebration. From that moment on, fashion was never merely functional for him; it was cultural, emotional, and deeply respectful of beauty.

He studied in Milan and then moved to Paris, where he worked for Jean Dessès and Guy Laroche, absorbing the discipline of haute couture and the rigour of craft. In 1960, he returned to Rome, where he met Giancarlo Giammetti — his business partner and lifelong companion. Together, they built something rare: a maison founded on mutual trust, clarity of roles, and a shared vision. Valentino created; Giammetti protected the conditions that allowed creation to flourish.

Black-and-white archival photo of Valentino Garavani in his atelier. The emperor of fashion holds a white embroidered dress with care, in the act of presenting his creation.

From a small atelier, international recognition followed. Heads of state, actresses, and cultural icons wore his designs not to be noticed, but to feel complete. His work became a pillar of Italian fashion history, yet its appeal was always global — rooted in classical ideals, but never provincial.

In a fashion system that now rewards disruption above all else — even within his own brand — Valentino’s journey reminds us of what is being lost: the power of a singular vision patiently built over a lifetime. He shaped his path through self-improvement, perseverance, discipline, and devotion. There was no rush, no need to shout. Only the quiet confidence of couture mastery.

This was fashion as artisanal excellence — an expression of creativity anchored in craftsmanship and cultural intelligence. Valentino began in a four-person atelier, where every stitch served a vision, not a market forecast or a shareholder meeting. Today, creative directors often bend to corporate strategies; his generation built houses where creativity led, and business followed.

He announced his retirement in 2007, at the age of 75, with a final, all-red, iconic show in Paris in 2008 that felt less like a farewell and more like a celebration of coherence. Filmmaker Matt Tyrnauer later captured his legacy in the 2008 documentary Valentino: The Last Emperor — a revealing portrait of discipline, obsession, and unwavering standards.

The emperor of fashion — in his own words


Valentino was never vague about what he believed in.

“Elegance is made of intelligence, and above all of not flaunting the label.”

This sentence alone explains much of what feels absent today. His couture belonged to a world where creativity and quality spoke louder than branding. Where clothing revealed taste rather than wealth. Today, the balance has reversed: logos have replaced language, stepping in where quality no longer speaks for itself.

“Today, those who have money do not always have class or memory.”

Memory here is key — cultural memory, aesthetic memory, historical awareness. Without it, fashion becomes noise.

He spoke openly about contemporary taste:

“Today, with the influencers, bad taste is everywhere.”

And in his farewell to Pierpaolo Piccioli, he offered what may be his most revealing statement on modern fashion:

“Thank you… for your friendship, respect, and support. You’re the only designer I know who hasn’t tried to distort the codes of a major brand by imposing new ones and the megalomania of a ridiculous ego.”

In those words lies his entire credo: respect for heritage, humility before beauty, and a firm rejection of ego-driven disruption. 

Final thoughts


So what can we learn from Valentino — the emperor of fashion? From someone who made creativity, couture, and beauty the work of a lifetime?

That legacy is not built by chasing what is new, but by deepening what is beautiful. That true luxury is not only what you create, but what you refuse to compromise. And that elegance — real elegance — requires time, memory, intelligence, and restraint.

In today’s fashion machine, where speed is rewarded and noise is constant, Valentino’s life asks a quieter, more demanding question:

What are we in such a hurry to create, if not something meant to last?

He was not just a designer. He was an emperor — of a slower, more deliberate kingdom. One that, in its silence, still speaks louder than ever.

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Saks’ bankruptcy: what game is fashion playing?

Reading Time: 4 minutes

The news, coming one year after the acquisition of Neiman Marcus, highlights the broken state of fashion retail


The news of Saks’ bankruptcy forces a simple question: what game is fashion playing?

Roughly a year ago, Saks acquired Neiman Marcus, along with its sister company, Bergdorf Goodman. On the surface, it appeared to be consolidation, strength, and scale. Cool, right?

Now, almost exactly one year later, Saks has filed for bankruptcy.

This isn’t bad luck, nor an unexpected turn of events. It’s the consequence of a business model that no longer works—yet one the industry keeps pretending is still viable. Fashion is carrying on with business as usual, as if nothing were fundamentally wrong. Let’s try to make sense of it.

Saks is not an anomaly. It is a textbook case of the perfect storm hitting traditional luxury retail—a masterclass in what not to do. Its apparent survival has relied more on inertia and prestige than on any real vitality.

Saks’ bankruptcy: the symptom of a broken system


A close examination of the post-acquisition collapse reveals several structural problems.

First: the customer has changed.
Luxury consumption no longer revolves around temples of consumption. Millennials and Gen Z buy differently: they seek meaning, experience, authenticity, storytelling. The dusty, formal department store —rigid, hierarchical, and disconnected — struggles to resonate with generations who expect fluidity, values, and emotional engagement.

Second: the “emptiness retail” model.
Luxury department stores suffer from a profound identity crisis. They are neither exclusive enough to rival monobrand boutiques nor convenient or experiential enough to compete with direct e-commerce. The result is a space full of products but empty of meaning. Constant overproduction and a culture of perpetual discounting replace identity-building, trapping retailers in a vicious cycle where volume compensates for relevance—until it doesn’t.

Third: the brand wars.
Major luxury groups — Chanel, LVMH, Kering — have tightened control over distribution, investing heavily in their own direct-to-consumer channels. Owned stores and proprietary e-commerce platforms steadily erode the relevance and bargaining power of multi-brand megaretailers such as Saks. Brands are now openly competing with their own stockists. They want it all, yet fail to acknowledge a basic truth: the addressable market for luxury is not infinite.

Finally: monstrous debt.
The acquisition of Neiman Marcus was financed with over $4 billion in debt, backed by private equity. This left Saks servicing an unsustainable financial burden precisely as interest rates rose and the market demanded reinvention. Debt didn’t cause the crisis—but it removed any remaining room to adapt.

However, this pattern isn’t unique to Saks. From Farfetch to LuisaViaRoma to SSENSE, whether e-commerce or brick-and-mortar, fashion retailers have recently faced similar outcomes, even without headline-grabbing acquisitions. The conclusion is hard to ignore: the era of mega-retailers reliant on endless discounts and scale alone is over.

And yet, the response remains stubbornly familiar.

Following last Tuesday’s voluntary bankruptcy filing, Saks Global swiftly secured $400 million in new financing (around €345 million). As reported by Reuters, a US bankruptcy judge granted initial approval despite opposition from Amazon, its now-separated commercial partner.

We suggest reading a post we wrote a while back → Fashion industry: a dying patient

Final thoughts


This is business as usual in its most dangerous form: strategic sleepwalking. Consolidating a dying market through acquisitions, rather than radically rethinking the purpose of the physical store and questioning the overproduction model, is not a solution—it’s a fatal error.

Ultimately, Saks acquired two legacy giants — Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman — at a premium price, loading its balance sheet with crippling debt at the exact moment the sector was pivoting toward streamlined, direct-to-consumer models.

Cool still?

More than anything, Saks’ bankruptcy has become a case study in what not to do when attempting to transform luxury retail for the 21st century. A very expensive lesson.

So, now that the bailout has arrived, the real question remains: is it plausible to emerge from collapse with a massive cash injection alone? Can survival occur without changing the business model itself?

The question seems rhetorical.

And the answer is no.

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One piece, one story: The Swallow Tail Sweatshirt  by Ujoh

Reading Time: 4 minutes

Where architectural silhouette meets sanctuary comfort — for those who wear a point of view, not just a garment


This is The Swallow Tail Sweatshirt by Ujoh.
In a system that produces tonnes of disposable clothing, we curate: one piece, one story. A radical view for ethical and aesthetic resistance — meaningful garments, an expression of good design. Slow fashion—made to last, made by hand.

The Swallow Tail Sweatshirt is not merely worn; it is inhabited. It is the foundational layer of an intelligent wardrobe — an apparent ease that offers both profound comfort and sculptural presence. In its generous yet precise volume, it promises sanctuary; in its swallow-tail back, it delivers a coup de théâtre. A silent, powerful gesture of modern nonchalance.

It evokes the serene tension of contemporary architecture: a structure where volume appears to float, anchored by precise, clean lines. The oversized silhouette becomes a generous atrium; the swallow tail, the calculated flourish that guides the eye and defines space. It is a beauty that champions dynamic form and intelligent repose.

Black. Not a mere absence of colour, but a vast, absorbent canvas. A void that holds light and shadow, lending weight to form and depth to drape. A shade that is both absolute and infinite.

A conceptual photograph of the black Swallow Tail Sweatshirt by Ujoh. It hangs on a minimal hanger against a neutral backdrop, with a series of empty golden picture frames arranged below it.
The Black Swallow Tail Sweatshirt by Ujoh

Avant-garde clothing: the anatomy of sculptural ease

• The detail:
An asymmetric swallow tail back, cut from a single, fluid pattern. This is its signature, its soul. More than a detail, it is a kinetic event: a silhouette that transforms with every step, creating a dialogue between movement and stillness. It challenges the static nature of traditional knitwear, introducing a dialogue between body and space.

• The design:
A deceptive oversized cut with dropped shoulders and front slits. This is the core of its philosophy. The volume suggests effortlessness, yet resolves into a clean, controlled fit on the body. The slits grant freedom; the dropped shoulders create a relaxed, refined line. Comfort, meticulously calculated.

• The make:
Made in Japan—from 100% premium mercerised cotton fleece. Not merely a fabric, but a sensorial experience. The mercerisation process enhances the cotton with subtle lustre, exceptional strength, and a plush, enduring hand-feel. The knit lining is a private luxury. This is tangible quality — designed to deepen with time.

The Swallow Tail Sweatshirt: the intelligent core of a modern uniform


This is a piece that offers armour through softness, allowing you to move through your day with ease and quiet authority. It understands that the highest form of luxury is the sovereignty over one’s own comfort.

• For a morning coffee: paired with tailored wide-leg trousers and minimalist leather shoes. A uniform for focused thought and fluid movement.
• For the urban landscape: layered over a cotton shirt and beneath a structured wool overcoat. A study in texture, contrast, and controlled volume.
• For the understated evening: worn with black couture leggings and ankle boots. The apex of considered elegance.

For the modern humans who curate, not consume — whose wardrobe is a library of dog-eared favourites, each piece a chapter in their story.

🌟 The Swallow Tail Sweatshirt – Ujoh
Limited edition.  Like a diary page—meant to be lived in.

🖤 To enquire: DM  @suite123 | WhatsApp | Email

Available by appointment for shopping in Milano or worldwide—from screen to doorstep. From our hands to your daily ritual.

P.S. Ask us about the Japanese philosophy of Ma (negative space) in design, and how this sweatshirt embodies it. Or how to style the swallow tail for maximum dramatic effect in motion. We are here for the conversations, not just the transactions.

Footnotes: The intelligence of this piece lies in its deceptive volume. It offers the psychological comfort of an oversized garment alongside the polish of a tailored layer, resolving a contemporary sartorial tension. It proves that avant-garde design does not sacrifice comfort—it redefines it. Design refined to its most powerful expression.

One piece, one story: The Swallow Tail Sweatshirt  by Ujoh Read More »