Here’s a rewritten version of the text in fluent, natural English while preserving the original meaning:

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I believe women have a special kind of creativity that helps them navigate even the most impossible situations. This is especially true for women artists, who use their creative work to overcome life’s challenges. I find this incredibly inspiring—it gives me hope for the future.

What inspired your focus on telling stories about femininity? Where did this desire come from?

MGC: I credit my daughter for this shift. I’ve always worked instinctively, but Rachele—who has a more analytical, culturally aware approach to life—helped me see things differently. Our conversations became a generational dialogue. She challenged fashion’s role and pushed me to reconsider what fashion could represent. We went through a period together where fashion needed to take on deeper meaning.

RR: At university, my academic circle was highly critical of fashion’s role—how it shapes images of femininity and the female body. This realization coincided with her becoming creative director at Dior. Our discussions centered on what it means to be a woman designing clothes for women.

MGC: Coming from my background, I focused more on craftsmanship than on representing women’s bodies. Certain rights felt like they’d already been won—my mother’s generation had fought for divorce and abortion rights, so I took them for granted. Working with women like the Fendi sisters, I enjoyed complete freedom and assumed these freedoms were permanent. It was shocking to realize that representing femininity carried new complexities. Engaging with a different visual culture—one that wasn’t prominent early in my career—was eye-opening. My generation saw fashion as abstract, less tied to the responsibility of depicting women’s bodies.

RR: My critiques aimed to make her more aware of that responsibility, given her influential role. When I started working with her, I understood how change happens from within—navigating multiple realities while delivering tangible results.

(Image captions: Two photos of Man Ray’s original tableaux vivants from 1930, which inspired this week’s exhibition at Teatro della Cometa.)

The reality is, there are still very few women designing for women at major fashion houses.

RR: The patriarchal perspective is systemic, affecting every industry and creative field. Even women have internalized this viewpoint, often unconsciously.

MGC: You have to constantly question yourself—your identity, your work, what you assume is given. My conversations with my daughter and her generation forced me to rethink many things. This happened as the industry appeared to be changing (or at least, it seemed that way). Today’s access to information and communication tools is staggering—we take for granted the books, knowledge, and technology at our fingertips. Social media and new technologies… (sentence trails off)These processes have all become interconnected—sometimes too much, in my opinion. Still, they’ve given everyone a voice and a critical perspective, even if that sometimes comes with oversimplified or less nuanced analysis. But it’s all part of an ongoing evolution.

Fashion shows now have a global audience, yet you’re currently managing an intimate theater—a small, jewel-like space, completely different from the scale of Dior. How do you view fashion today?

MGC: What matters isn’t size, but the chance to work on projects of real quality. A brand can be small, large, or even “mega-galactic”—of course, budgets and opportunities vary—but the joy remains the same. I found just as much fulfillment early in my career working for tiny brands as I did later for a major one.

The theater allows for a more intimate approach, which in some ways is even more exciting because you have fewer resources. It’s also more artisanal—you have to solve problems by hand. For example, deciding on set design with artist Pietro Ruffo, then figuring out how to print a small catalog, finding a local workshop, arranging the typography… That hands-on process is beautiful, and I think young people really connect with it. I’ve taken Rachele to meet all the artisans I work with—it’s fascinating to see the people who bring these projects to life.

Maybe because I’m from Rome, where there’s a strong culture of collaboration, I’ve never been drawn to massive platforms. I know everyone I work with personally—I have all their numbers. Last night at the cruise show, many of them were there. I wanted them with me because it’s a shared moment of pride—we made it happen together.

How has fashion changed since you started?

I’ve witnessed an entire generational shift, partly through Rachele, who grew up in fashion—she used to come with me to the Fendi office as a child, playing in showrooms with her brother. They’d help organize bags on shelves to stay busy. My husband Paolo would bring them there while I worked—even breastfeeding between meetings. It’s a very Italian way, blending family and work.

I was lucky to work with the founders of Valentino and the Fendi sisters, incredible mentors who taught me so much. Then fashion became dominated by big groups, and I lived through that transition too. The biggest change, though, came with communication—new media scaled fashion into pop culture.

Before, fashion was an insider conversation among people who understood the craft. Now, your audience might include someone who’s never seen a runway show or grasped the effort behind a collection. With these platforms, it’s harder to convey the depth, so the risk is a very surface-level view.

Where is the system headed? Honestly, I don’t know. But like all things, it moves in cycles—as The Leopard says, “Everything changes so that nothing changes.” Maybe we need a fresh perspective. Even with Teatro Cometa, we’re rethinking traditional programming because…It wouldn’t be sustainable. People’s attention spans have changed—they’re much shorter now. With so many images everywhere, everything feels frantic, consumed instantly.

Rachele, what kind of programming can we expect from Teatro della Cometa?

RR: The programming will focus on music because the very first show when Teatro Cometa opened in 1958 was I Capricci di Marianna by Alfred de Musset, starring a young Monica Vitti, and there were many chamber music concerts too. So music will be part of the program. We wanted to bring back variety—not just theater, but also music, performance, and dance—because our approach is the same as what we did at Dior: creating dialogue and offering a platform to creatives from different fields.

The idea is to have different curators for each discipline, with an artistic committee overseeing everything. You won’t see the same performance for six months straight—instead, maybe a month of dance, then a month of music, rotating like a festival.

MGC: It’s a long-term project that lets us do what we love—research. And yes, it’s timeless—really timeless, that word fashion loves so much. Compared to fashion, this project is definitely more timeless!

So you’ll be very involved too?

RR: She’s a cultural entrepreneur now!

MGC: Honestly, I’m just trying to cover costs! Thankfully, my husband and son are helping me understand the business plan because I’m terrible at it—I really should learn more about finances.

Maybe designing costumes for the theater?

MGC: No, costumes don’t interest me right now. I’m more focused on research and collaborating with a team to develop ideas. I’d also love to do a book on Mimì Pecci Blunt—that’s something I really want to do. It’ll take time, but we have the whole archive. And I want Teatro della Cometa to have its own life—we don’t want it tied just to us, even though I’ve been quite visible over the years.

With all the people you’ve worked with at Dior, were there any especially inspiring moments—ones that taught or surprised you? Any artist you particularly enjoyed collaborating with?

MGC: The truth is, these projects are never solo efforts—they’re always teamwork. What satisfies me most is seeing the team excited to be part of these experiences because we all learn.

Working with choreographer Sharon Eyal (for Dior’s spring 2019 collection) was incredible. Designing for ballet means working closely with the body—finding solutions with the knitwear team was technical, emotional, and visual. It was powerful and fascinated all of us. It was our first time working with a choreographer, and everyone was nervous about coordinating a show with choreography and music. We learned so much—and kept collaborating with her afterward, even for her own ballets—because a kind of community forms, where you stay connected.

Then there’s Chanakya—the school, the artists, the exhibition we did at the Vatican—and we even went with them to the 2024 Venice Biennale for a collateral exhibition called Cosmic Garden. It was crazy! Crazy women at the Biennale! We didn’t even know how to apply for the call for proposals. That’s the spirit of adventure—when you don’t know if you’ll succeed, but you try anyway and move forward, bringing people along. I definitely—They definitely have an adventurous spirit.

The theater’s lobby has been restored to its elegant mid-century aesthetic.
Photographed by Laura Sciacovelli

Chiuri led a careful restoration, bringing the venue back to life with architect Fabio Tudisco. They honored the original 1950s design by Tomaso Buzzi, which envisioned the space as a lavish baroque court theater.
Photographed by Laura Sciacovelli

A mother and daughter stand outside the theater.
Photographed by Laura Sciacovelli