RENAISSANCE MAN: EMILIO PUCCI
The ‘Prince of Prints’ presided over an ancestral home that has remained as vibrant as his famous swirling patterns
‹‹ As Florence flourished over the centuries, so too did the Puccis. They made their fortune in trade and were close allies of the Medici throughout the 15th century; rose to further prominence, producing three cardinals, in the 16th century; and acquired the fiefdom of Barsento in the 17th century. They were also great patrons of the arts, although it was a gift from Lorenzo de’ Medici to Giannozzo Pucci in 1483 that’s of particular note — a series of four magnificent panels, The Story of Nastagio Degli Onesti by Botticelli, one of which still graces a wall in the palazzo.
In keeping with the Florentine architectural tradition, Palazzo Pucci’s exterior is ruggedly handsome rather than beautiful, like many of its Roman counterparts — a difference surely noted by the current mistress, the Marchesa Cristina Pucci di Barsento, who hailed from the Italian capital before her marriage to Emilio in 1959. Following six centuries of renovations and additions, as well as subtle ‘refreshments’ made by the marchesa, the interior is softer and more nuanced. Rooms on the piano nobile, where the atelier was located, retain 16th- and 17th-century frescoes under which, over the years, Pucci runway shows have taken place. A succession of later rooms unfolds one floor up, such as the Baroque music room, with its stucco pilaster and caryatid-studded walls, and the neoclassical Wedgwood room, created by an English artist in the late 18th century. And under the palace’s ancient eaves sits the circa 1971 Altana by architect Gae Aulenti, a sculptural private apartment in stainless steel that overlooks the Duomo and more resembles a sophisticated spaceship than the attic of a Renaissance palace. Following Emilio’s death in 1992, the Pucci creative baton — no doubt clad in exuberant silk stretch jersey — was passed to his daughter, Laudomia, who has worked, on and off, alongside her father since 1985 and now co-owns the company with LVMH. Over the course of the centuries, popes, kings and queens — and more recently, creative directors such as Christian Lacroix and Peter Dundas — have passed through the palazzo’s wrought-iron gates on their way to the piano nobile. Did Monroe ever cross the same threshold? Sadly not, but I like to think of her in a brightly hued heaven, wearing the green Pucci shift in which she made her final journey to the afterlife, looking down onto the ever-evolving palazzo.