#ceomindset

For a brief but unforgettable moment in the 2000s, Thomas Wylde defined the apex of rock‑chic luxury. While Alexander McQueen’s skull scarf became the decade’s ultimate “it” accessory, seen on Nicole Richie, the Olsen twins, Kim Kardashian, Mischa Barton, Christina Aguilera, Kanye West, Lindsay Lohan, Cher, Paris Hilton, Sienna Miller, Pink and more, Thomas Wylde translated that same macabre glamour into a complete lifestyle: ready‑to‑wear, handbags, and hardware that felt as collectible as fine jewelry. I owned the purple‑and‑black skull scarf myself, and it was instantly recognizable as a Thomas Wylde statement—runway‑ready, rock‑and‑roll, and unapologetically luxe.

At its peak, Thomas Wylde sat comfortably alongside names like Chrome Hearts, catering to an affluent, global client who wanted leather, metal and attitude without sacrificing polish. The brand’s handbags were especially coveted: beautifully grained leather, weighty hardware, and signature skull grommets that doubled as both logo and armor. This was not “logo‑mania” in the traditional sense; it was identity as iconography. Thomas Wylde dressed the fashion insider who wanted to telegraph rebellion in a language only the initiated could read.

That’s why its absence today is so striking. The rock‑and‑roll skull era never truly disappeared; it simply went underground. Now, as Alexander McQueen revisits the skull motif on the runway and skulls resurface across jewelry, streetwear, and digital moodboards, the macrotrend is clear: dark romanticism is back, but more controlled, more minimal, and more emotionally charged. The industry is openly nostalgic for the early‑2000s fusion of danger and decadence—yet the very brand that once carried that flag so effectively, Thomas Wylde, is missing from the runway conversation.

The last major Thomas Wylde runway outing, under creative director Jene Park in Fall 2017, quietly offered a blueprint for how the brand could thrive now. Park elevated the house’s DNA with richer materials—leather, fur, refined tailoring—while internalizing the skull motif, literally placing it within linings and interior details. The message was subtle but powerful: the rebel lives inside the garment, and inside the wearer. Rock and roll had grown up. Instead of screaming for attention, it whispered from beneath the surface. Park also introduced the higanbana (red spider lily), a fall‑blooming flower tied to folklore about warding off evil spirits. Conceptually, it was genius: a protective talisman, blooming in a season of darkness, layered onto a brand already fluent in death‑adjacent symbolism. It is exactly the kind of story‑driven motif consumers and editors crave today—and one that deserves to be revisited and expanded.

A strategic revival of Thomas Wylde would start by embracing, not escaping, its rock heritage. But the opportunity now is to reframe that heritage through three contemporary lenses: Glam Rock, Punk, and Individualism. A refreshed Thomas Wylde could:

Lean into Glam Rock with high‑sheen leathers, sculptural shoulders, and dramatic eveningwear that sits comfortably in both red‑carpet and nightlife contexts.

Reinterpret Punk not as literal safety pins and tartan, but as modular, customizable pieces that allow wearers to “hack” their clothes—removable straps, convertible silhouettes, hardware‑driven details.

Speak directly to Gen Z’s revised emo moment with early‑2000s references—low‑rise, exaggerated belts, dark romance—filtered through a modern luxury lens and cut in responsible materials.

Culturally, the timing is ideal. In an increasingly polarized political environment, darker palettes, sharp silhouettes, and minimal yet emotionally loaded styling have become a visual shorthand for resilience, introspection, and solidarity. TikTok’s “90s fine” and Y2K‑adjacent trends prove that consumers are actively searching for brands that understand nostalgia without mimicking it wholesale. Thomas Wylde is uniquely positioned to sit between these worlds: a house born from that era’s energy, now capable of editing it for a more sophisticated, more self‑aware audience.

To scale intelligently, the brand should return to what once made it a cult object: accessories. Handbags, scarves, small leather goods, and jewelry are the most natural vehicles for the skull and higanbana motifs, and they offer accessible price points without diluting luxury. A focused accessories strategy could:

Reissue and modernize core icons (the skull scarf, a hero bag with grommeted hardware, a talismanic higanbana charm).

Introduce limited drops and collaborations with carefully chosen musicians, digital creators, and style leaders who embody “quietly rebellious” luxury.

Use scarcity and storytelling—not mass logo placement—to rebuild desire.

Finally, a revived Thomas Wylde would need to broaden its audience without losing its edge. That means keeping the brand anchored in high luxury—materials, construction, and narrative—but communicating through platforms and faces that resonate with today’s consumers. Strategic partnerships with Gen Z and millennial tastemakers, particularly those already leaning into dark romanticism and minimal, “90s fine” styling, would allow the label to feel both legacy and next‑generation at once.

With so many rebrands, restructurings, and quiet exits, Furla is an instructive case study in what happens when a brand actually knows its customer but hasn’t fully translated that clarity into product and storytelling. Eraldo Poletto has been explicit for years: “Furla is more about style than fashion…Elegance is timeless, we are about style and about being modern combined with heritage,” and he frames the Furla woman as independent, self‑directed, and uninterested in “putting on somebody else’s life.” In a market saturated with aspirational cosplay, that positioning is not just poetic; it is commercially precise. It speaks directly to a working woman who treats her bag as infrastructure, not costume.

From a retail‑behavior standpoint, Furla sits in the accessible / quiet‑luxury tier: Italian design and craftsmanship at an attainable price point, with discreet branding and a relatively low barrier to entry. This is the zone where today’s fatigued consumer is still willing to spend. The “working girl’s handbag” really is the equivalent of the finance man’s watch: a compact, high‑frequency status signal that whispers rather than screams. A young professional whose first paycheck is swallowed by rent will still allocate a small, emotionally meaningful percentage to a bag that promises durability, recognizability to the right people, and daily utility. That is classic entry‑luxury behavior—trading up selectively on the items closest to the body that move through the most social contexts.

Where Furla still has untapped potential is at the product and sensory level. The brand’s simplicity is a strength, but the hardware, surface treatments, and material play could work much harder as silent identifiers. In an era where “quiet luxury handbags” continue to show sustained search interest and periodic spikes, consumers are looking for pieces that feel restrained yet unmistakable. This is where lessons from now‑closed Henri Bendel are instructive: distinctive hardware, clever texture blocking, and subtle signature details that create instant recognition without resorting to loud logos. For Furla, this could mean a more assertive hardware language, richer tactility, and limited‑edition fabrications that keep the core silhouette but refresh the novelty quotient for repeat buyers.

Poletto’s return to the CEO role in a post‑Covid, Amazon‑dominated landscape also changes the distribution equation. The rise of marketplace shopping and platform‑native “luxury stores” has trained consumers to expect both convenience and curation. To maintain pricing power and brand equity, Furla will have to sharpen its channel strategy: what lives in wholesale and platforms versus what is reserved for DTC flagships and travel retail, where the brand already sees strong traction. The opportunity is to present Furla as the default everyday luxury carry for women in transit—work, travel, errands—backed by a clear promise: Italian design, longevity, and fairness on price, rather than speculative status.

Blumarine’s recent alignment with Olandria Carthen is more than a celebrity placement; it is a case study in how luxury brands can use talent, styling, and media to recalibrate their market position. Under creative director David Koma, whose signature is sculptural, body‑conscious glamour, Blumarine is leaning into a dark romantic narrative that sits comfortably between goth, sensuality, and high‑fashion fantasy. Olandria’s black sheer look—paired with short hair and a softly “romantic goth” beauty direction—translates that runway vision into an accessible, highly shareable image architecture.

From a brand‑equity perspective, the casting is extremely coherent. Koma’s own aesthetic—sharp, hyper‑feminine, and nightlife‑adjacent—maps cleanly onto Olandria’s personal brand as an educated, media‑savvy rising star with a strong couple narrative and a playful, intelligent public persona. This is not a random influencer buy; it’s image alignment. Each appearance she makes for Blumarine demonstrates tight styling control: the silhouettes, sheerness, and finishings carry the Blumarine codes, while hair, makeup, and attitude remain recognizably “Olandria.” That balance is what turns a one‑off look into a repeatable brand association.

The strategic upside is measurable in attention economics. Olandria sits at roughly 2.3 million followers, while Blumarine is under the million mark; by luxury standards, she is an amplification engine, extending the brand’s reach into younger, digitally native audiences who treat social followings as soft currency and social proof. Every look is effectively a mini‑capsule campaign, optimized for click‑through and saves rather than just red‑carpet press. Importantly, she brings a narrative halo—beauty, humor, and an emphasis on education and emotional intelligence—that softens the inherent edge of dark romance and makes it aspirational rather than alienating.

This is also happening against a shifting Italian media backdrop. As Italian audiences migrate away from traditional connected TV toward streaming platforms and on‑demand content, fashion visibility is increasingly driven by platform‑native storytelling and programmatic video rather than linear placements. Olandria’s content—short‑form, high‑production, optimized for scroll and replay—slots perfectly into that ecosystem. Her Blumarine moments don’t just live on a runway livestream; they circulate through TikTok, Instagram, and fan communities, compounding reach over time.

Aesthetically, the dark romantic direction Blumarine is pursuing taps into a broader cultural need. Millennials and Gen Z are navigating economic anxiety, political volatility, and a pervasive sense of burnout; the “dark fantasy” wardrobe—sheer black, lace, elongated lines, and a Lestat‑adjacent sensuality—offers an escapist but coherent language for those feelings. Done well, this isn’t costume; it’s codified mood. By anchoring that mood in a consistent silhouette and a clearly defined muse, Blumarine and Koma are building a recognizable visual franchise that can evolve across seasons, categories, and price points.

Rihanna: The Blueprint for Modern Leadership in Fashion and Beauty

What Rihanna teaches us about building inclusive luxury”

Rihanna is far more than a global superstar — she’s a masterclass in creative leadership and brand reinvention. From her early days as a bold Caribbean artist to becoming a beauty and fashion powerhouse, her journey reflects the future of influence: authenticity built on purpose.

When Good Girl Gone Bad launched, we witnessed a defining shift. It wasn’t just an album — it was a statement of transformation and agency. Rihanna reintroduced herself to the world, not as a product of the industry but as a force shaping it. Her confidence, creativity, and refusal to conform became the foundation for everything that followed.

Today, her empire — spanning Fenty Beauty, Fenty Skin, and Savage x Fenty — exemplifies how inclusive innovation can reshape global industries. By centering diversity, authenticity, and representation, Rihanna didn’t follow market trends — she created them. Fenty Beauty’s success, reaching millions and setting new benchmarks for inclusivity, isn’t just about cosmetics; it’s about rewriting the business playbook for who gets to be seen and celebrated.

Her fashion ventures mirror her philosophy: high standards, bold vision, and unapologetic self-expression. The Savage x Fenty shows have become cultural moments — uniting icons like Cindy Crawford and Lourdes Leon with models of all sizes, shades, and backgrounds. Rihanna’s leadership style turns inclusivity into art and commerce into community.

Beyond business, her philanthropy through the Clara Lionel Foundation and her annual Diamond Ball highlight her belief that true legacy combines creativity with impact. Even as she embraces motherhood, Rihanna continues to show that ambition and empathy can coexist — and that joy and discipline are the twin engines of success.

Rihanna reminds us that power today looks different. It’s personal, principled, and participatory. She isn’t just a celebrity; she’s a cultural architect proving that the future of fashion and beauty will be defined by courage, conviction, and community.

Aunque a veces nos olvidamos

Impulsado por un proyecto que reúne la experiencia adquirida durante muchos años de estudio y profundización en su propia sensibilidad, filtrando el mundo que lo rodea y revisitando los cantos del sur del mundo, que incluye sobre todo la composición de canciones inéditas impregnadas de tradición y pasión, Giuseppe Cucè nace en Catania el 8 de septiembre de 1972 y desde niño cultiva el sueño de la escritura, pero sobretodo de la música. Comienza su camino pintando sus pensamientos en lienzo, para luego dejarse capturar por la danza contemporánea, hasta enfrentarse con diversas identidades presentes en su ser y descubrir su propio camino canalizando sus energías hacia la escritura y la composición.

Durante su carrera, Giuseppe Cucè ha colaborado con varios músicos, entre los más fieles el productor artístico Riccardo Sanperi, el percusionista Francesco Bazzano, los guitarristas Antonio Masto y Edoardo Musumeci, y Alessandro Longo en el violonchelo. En 2008, Giuseppe Cucè comienza a colaborar con TRP MUSIC de Riccardo Samperi, y de esta colaboración nace el CD La Manzana y la Serpiente, un álbum que será la expresión absoluta del alma Saudade del artista. El álbum también fue publicado por EDINA MUSIC, sello parisino fundado por Yvon Chateigner. La gira de presentación del álbum recién publicado le dará al cantautor de Catania la oportunidad de actuar en los teatros más importantes de París (Le Trianon, L’Alhambra, Le Petit Saint Martin).

El mundo es verdadero

“El mundo es verdadero” es un viaje poético y sensorial dentro de las atmósferas cálidas y melancólicas del Sur del mundo.

En el texto se encuentran imágenes de calles desgastadas por el tiempo, de mujeres que observan el pasar de la vida desde las puertas de sus casas, de hombres sin zapatos que persiguen un sueño y de noches iluminadas por una luna negra.

El tema alterna cuadros íntimos y nostálgicos – la búsqueda de un camino, el sentido de desorientación, la ansiedad de la primera vez – con sugerencias musicales y populares: merengue, guajira, rumba y danzón se entrelazan como metáfora de una vitalidad que resiste, de un presente que se olvida bailando.

El texto en español fue readaptado por Alessandro Spagna, alias Pandi, quien le devolvió toda su autenticidad rítmica y lingüística.

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