Production ends for the iconic fabric worn by Audrey Hepburn
Panno Casentino, farewell. For centuries, the warm texture of Casentino cloth has embodied the very feel of Tuscany. But the final curtain has fallen on Manifattura del Casentino. The shutdown of its last manufacturer doesn’t just mark the end of a fabric, but the erasure of a unique chapter in the story of Italian craftsmanship and style.
Panno Casentino: A symbol of tradition, craftsmanship, and style
Panno Casentino is a traditional, robust, and warm wool fabric originating from the Casentino Valley in Tuscany, known for its distinctive, curly surface. It is made waterproof and resistant to wear and weather through a finishing process called fulling (felting), followed by brushing, which creates its signature curls.
The defining feature is this unique, hairy pile, which provides excellent thermal insulation, making it highly resistant to cold, wind, and rain. Traditionally produced in shades of green and orange, its bright colours are now a hallmark. The classic orange hue was reportedly discovered by accident when a chemical dye reacted during the waterproofing process.
The fabric’s origins date back to Etruscan and Roman times, and it has long stood as a symbol of Tuscan craftsmanship. Historically, it clothed outdoor workers and was even accepted as a form of tax payment in Florence in the 1300s.
The crinkled wool gained global recognition when Audrey Hepburn wore a Casentino coat in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Through Holly Golightly, it was transformed from practical workwear into a timeless emblem of Italian elegance.
What happened: The economic and geopolitical background
The end had been looming for some time — as early as 2022 — but now it seems definitive. The final chapter has arrived for Manifattura del Casentino in Soci (Bibbiena), the last company producing this unique cloth. With the firm in liquidation and its 13 remaining workers made redundant, the factory stands silent. All that remains are the machines, including the specialised curling equipment essential to the fabric’s identity. They face a December deadline: if no one intervenes, they will be dismantled.
According to Corriere Fiorentino, the company’s latest crisis was the mirror image of its previous one. In the summer of 2022, there were orders but no production, due to bankruptcy under the former management. When production was finally restored, the orders had evaporated, swept away by the wider textile crisis.
The owners, Roberto Malossi and Andrea Fastoni, first raised the alarm a year and a half ago, reiterating it last Christmas. With no new orders coming in, closure became inevitable.
“We held firm until June,” Fastoni explained, “even as turnover collapsed to just €300,000 — a third of 2023’s figure and one-tenth of 2022’s. Then, starting 1st July, we had to place workers on furlough. We contacted the regional government immediately, but negotiations for a sale never materialised. All that remained was severance pay.”
Textile industry: The perfect storm
The situation became unsustainable, Fastoni said, citing a perfect storm of challenges: “It wasn’t just the broader textile crisis hitting industrial centres like Prato and Biella. We were also affected by sanctions against Russia — one of our key markets — and by Middle East tensions, which drove up the cost of raw materials such as dyes. The worst blow was the surge in energy costs. Our electricity and gas bills reached €40,000 a month, which led to arrears and, eventually, a power cut. We’re also behind on rent. Roberto Bellandi, the Prato entrepreneur who bought the warehouse in 2022 to enable our restart, has been patient, but we cannot indefinitely rely on his generosity.”
This culmination of factors led to the decision to liquidate — a move now threatening the entire supply chain. The two partner firms that supplied raw cloth and marketed the finished fabric will also be severely impacted.
“The deadline is imminent,” Fastoni warns. “If no one steps forward in the coming weeks, a unique piece of our textile heritage will simply disappear.”
Final thoughts
As Corriere Fiorentino’s Salvatore Mannino bleakly concluded: “While Arezzo’s CGIL (union) leaders complain about the crisis, what’s needed now is a miracle — the kind you see in romantic films starring Audrey Hepburn. But Soci is not Hollywood.”
But Panno Casentino isn’t just a fabric. It’s history, tradition, craftsmanship, and culture woven together. The closure of Manifattura del Casentino isn’t only an economic loss — it’s a cultural one.
We are watching a symbol of Italian identity vanish, thread by thread. The warm, earthy colours that once defined Tuscan winters are fading into silence. Once again, small-scale craftsmanship succumbs to market logic, bureaucracy, and political inertia.
So what is politics doing — if not protecting the legacy that defines us? When they say they want to protect Made in Italy, what do they really mean?
If we can’t preserve what makes us who we are, what exactly are we building instead?