Correspondence No. 02 Stefano Pilati

In silent acquiensence, ellegance comes. I didn’t know your name the first time I saw your work. I just remember the structure. The control. The way a coat held itself up without asking for attention. There was silence in it. And power.

I would have lied if I told you I think of you in terms of “cut” or “drape”. In fact, I didn’t think at all, in me there was only a feeling. Not seduciton but resistance. Not pleasing but i felt you held a boundary.

Later I learned who you were: the one behind the tulip skirt, the Muse bag, the man who led YSL in quiet opposition.And then Zegna, wow, there you softened the idea of masculinity without ever losing shape.

Flamboyance was a true birthright for you.

Boots? Is that your favourite item? Was that an old-school training from your mother? 9 cm  Tabi boots? Eccentric man. It amazes me.

You walked away from the system. Respect. No drama. No spectacle. Just a shift—like a door closing slowly. And then I saw it, random idetities, what a spectacle of name, you were not trying to reinvent yourself, you were giving the rules back. 

Skirt? Change the perception in other people. Romantic, poetic philosophic genre. 

What stays with me is how your work always looked deliberate. Not cold, not detached, just exact.