130 years have passed by since 1891, when Attilio Fumagalli opened the first tie factory in Milan. In 130 years Italy has grown as a modern country, Italian habits have changed and the industry of fashion and advertising was born and developed. Fumagalli 1891 historical archives show how Fumagalli took part in changes and progress, preserving memory of its past.On the 130th anniversary, we can start a fascinating journey to rediscover the past.
“When I took up the baton from my father, I could not imagine the importance of Fumagalli 1891 heritage”. Roberto Delli Fiori, owner and CEO of Fumagalli 1891 recounts the historical archives of his company, the oldest italian tie maker and scarf manufacturer. Roberto Delli Fiori likes to call it “THE MUSEUM” because of the complexity of works and objects that are kept inside. The archives are full of objects from the past and the present telling about 130 years of lives, style, passion, art, culture and devoted work ethic.
Until the 70s the place where Fumagalli archives are now, was a dye-works and printing-works. On one side of the building, the small windows can still be seen, these used to allow only very little sunlight in for the workers to be able to print and dye.
The past of Fumagalli 1891 lives through the objects of its historical archives. Up on a shelf there are many scientific books, encyclopedias, manuals and textbooks. They are all in different languages and they probably came from far way to be part of the Fumagalli collection today. All these books hold the know-how of textile printing. Como is where Fumagalli has settled for a long time and it is well-known for silk production, from weaving to printing, from hand drawing to the first ink-jet printer.
In Fumagalli archives you can find manyalbums of drawings, sketches, paintings, collages. For example, you can see a cachemire pattern drawn in pencil on paper. It seems quite old and worn-out, probably because of the fact that it passed from hand to hand when it was printed. A note on paper says that it was reprinted on a special edition scarf inspired by the historical collection. Maybe a client visiting the archives can recognize that cachemire drawing, so similar to the one on the scarf she bought.
In other niches, on shelves and bookcases, lie rolls of perforated cards for Jacquard looms, small boxes of stamp ink, pins, sewing threads, paper clips, brushes, spools, and hooks for heddles. There are paper layouts, proof sheets, and some engraved wooden "planches" used for block printing, one of the oldest textile printing techniques. Everything appears suspended, tied to a thread, crystallized in multiple past eras.
One can recognize objects belonging to various periods, from tools dating back to 1850, books from 1870, spanning the Belle Époque, and reaching up to the more recent present day. From a box in the corner, a silk tie peeks out, adorned with the classic all-over floral motif on a blue background. Just above the keeper loop, the label is stitched, bearing the emblem of Fumagalli 1891 – Made in Italy.
Distracted by the wonders gradually unveiled by the archive, one might fail to notice a dusty trunk. Upon opening it, a small treasure is revealed: hundreds upon hundreds of colorful fabric swatches meticulously sewn together—these were the "cappellotti," the famous "patron," also known in English as "squares." And who knows how many journeys that suitcase, resting nearby, has undertaken. The agent always carried these suitcases brimming with fabric, and transporting them was no easy task.
It is worth considering that, in those years, the Fumagalli collection was so vast that no fewer than 60 suitcases were required to contain it!
To reach the store, a van capable of holding all 60 suitcases was necessary. It could take two, sometimes even three days for a client to review all the fabrics and make their selection. And that was truly a special day... The selection of new ties, dressing gowns, scarves, and handkerchiefs was made. At that time, for each color variation, decisions were made in dozens rather than single units. An average order, in fact, could range from 1,000 to 3,000 ties.
The suitcases are still stacked today at the entrance of Fumagalli's headquarters, and in some cases, they are still used to transport Fumagalli's collections around the world. Next to a large window overlooking the buildings and factories of Via Carso, folders and boxes of product sheets are stacked, complete with all the data related to designs, articles, requests, and orders placed. The references to buyers evoke reflections on how the company's clientele has transformed over 130 years, from the Milanese bourgeoisie of the fin de siècle to today's cosmopolitan gentleman.
Along one of the walls, the sample books of past collections are arranged on multiple shelves.
Flipping through one dated 1961, one can journey back in memory—or imagination—to an ordinary afternoon of that era, in a bustling, chaotic, and vibrant Milan preparing to become the capital of the Italian fashion industry. A gleaming Alfa Romeo Giulietta is parked in front of the window of a bespoke clothing boutique. A well-dressed young man steps out of the car, resembling one of the covers of Club, the magazine of the 1960s.
He enters the boutique with determination: he wants a Fumagalli tie. He doesn’t hesitate and chooses a classic model, in dark silk, similar to the one worn by Marcello Mastroianni in Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita. Before leaving, he remembers one of the many scarves printed on Fumagalli Gold Twill—how could he forget his beloved?
One morning in the early 50s. Alberto Fumagalli is back from a long trip in São Paulo, Brazil. As he gets back to his office, he notices a parcel on his desk. He wasn’t expecting anything. He grabs it, craving to see its content. It is not so heavy. On the wrapping there are postmarks and stamps, one has got a view of Paris on it. Alberto won’t need to read the sender’s name: he already knows who this is from.
He takes his hat and coat off. Seated at his desk, he stretches out his legs to enjoy the moment. What has Émile sent him?
There’s a book, as usual. A little note says: “Mon ami, I have sent you this collection of interesting things. I found the book about Indigosol dyes on a stall at Saint-Germain-de-Près and I thougt you would like it. I have also sent you some “style tips” from my charmante Paris, in memory of the good old days and hoping that soon you will come and see me. Best wishes, Émile”. Alberto takes his eyes off the little cardboard, recalling their strolls in Paris. He remembers as they walked carefree around the city, hands in their pockets, heading to a café in boulevard Saint-Germain to meet someone.
“Recettes et procédés. Les indigosols dans le domaine de l’impression et dans l’article foulard” was published in 1936. Second edition. Some page numbers are circled in blue. There are corrections stamped on the text. In the Appendix there’s a red sticker warning that one dye “N’est plus fabriqué”. Since the first edition was published, probably some substances were no longer produced and the author updated the content. Alberto is well aware of the importance of Indigosol dyes. Their application simplified the process of dyeing and helped to spread the use of synthetic dyes for dyeing and printing. “The book is the best means to preserve and to convey all this knowledge”, he pondered.
Back to that morning in the 50s. Inside a tissue paper, there are some samples of printed silk made for ties and a sketch taken from a magazine. Everything is well-folded. There is no doubt that Marceline wrapped it. There’s a page from the famous Parisian magazine, “Adam”: a model is leaning on the aircraft steps of an Air France. He’s earing cuffed trousers, a double-breasted coat made of cheviot and leather gloves. He wears a checked scarf knotted at the collar with the same pattern as the coat lining and socks. He is also wearing a Fedora, the soft wide brim hat, reminding Alberto of Rick Blaine in “Casablanca”.
He reminisces on a dinner in Île de la Cité from two years ago – but it feels like a hundred years ago – when his friend mocked Humphrey Bogart in the ending scene of that movie.
Alberto smiles melancholically. He sighs, putting the content of the parcel away. He looks at his watch and takes off his blazer. And he starts his working day, a “special” one.
That book is now part of the collection of Fumagalli 1891 historical archives. Pages have turned yellow a bit, but the notes taken with pencils, the stamps and stickers are still there. The book is amongst two hundred chemistry books and textbooks about dyeing and printing on fabrics. They are all well preserved, on two big shelves.