
With the passing of Giorgio Armani, the fashion world mourns a true titan - an Italian maestro who didn’t just design clothes but crafted a cultural phenomenon. Born in Piacenza in 1934, Armani ditched med school dreams in 1954 to dive into the stylish chaos of Milan’s La Rinascente department store. There, he got his first taste of fabrics and the magic of fashion licensing, a game-changer that made luxury accessible to the everyday Joe and Jane.
Armani’s big brain moment came from watching how Pierre Cardin’s licensed lines flew off the shelves at lower prices. He saw the potential to diversify a brand for different crowds and knew global domination could be his vibe. By 1975, teaming up with architect Sergio Galeotti, he launched his own label, serving up relaxed, effortlessly cool tailoring that flipped the script on stiff, old-school suits.
This wasn’t just fashion - it was a lifestyle, and Armani was ready to bring that energy across the pond to Hollywood, where red carpets and silver screens would become his ultimate runway. Fast forward to 1978, and a deal with Gruppo Finanziario Tessile birthed the Giorgio Armani Corporation, spinning out multiple lines for international markets with that signature laid-back luxe.
Armani’s first ready-to-wear line dropped in the U.S. in 1979, and he wasn’t about to let cultural differences mess with his vision. He tapped Edward Glantz, a former Barney’s New York insider, to tweak his designs for Americans who loved low-maintenance, budget-friendly fits. Glantz kept that signature Armani elegance with permanent-press fabrics - way less ironing drama - and cheaper materials to keep prices down.
While Milan shoppers shelled out $600 for jackets and $800 for suits, U.S. prices ranged from $150 to $450 at spots like Bergdorf Goodman and Nan Dusking. But the real game-changer? The 1980 flick American Gigolo, where Richard Gere’s high-rolling escort, Julian Kay, rocked lightweight Armani suits that screamed versatility - tie it up for formal or pair with jeans for that SoCal beachside brunch look.
These looks, straight from Armani’s affordable Collezioni line, meant fans could cop similar pieces IRL after drooling over them on screen. As fashion scholar John Potvin put it, this film didn’t just introduce Armani to America - it cemented Gere’s heartthrob status and made Armani a household name overnight.
“Hollywood wasn’t just a stage for Armani; it was his superpower to turn style into a global obsession,” said a longtime fashion critic reflecting on the designer’s legacy.
Throughout the ‘80s, power dressing was the name of the game - think sharp, broad-shouldered suits screaming confidence and clout. Armani’s sleek designs fit the bill perfectly, and by 1982, he became only the second designer ever to grace the cover of Time magazine. But Hollywood? That’s where he really flexed, outfitting characters in over 200 films from The Untouchables (1987) to The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), dressing hard-hitting leads who made Armani synonymous with power and style.
Even with 70% of his suits machine-made and partly produced in Hong Kong, Armani earned cred as a master tailor. His secret sauce wasn’t just craftsmanship - it was knowing how to play the Hollywood game, making his brand a symbol of ambition you could wear. Every blockbuster reinforced that narrative, from gritty crime dramas to Wall Street excess.
Armani knew celebrity clout was everything, so in 1988, he brought on Wanda McDaniel as his West Coast liaison to handle Hollywood A-listers’ looks, both on-screen and off. A former journalist turned Tinseltown insider, McDaniel took inspo from Fred Hayman’s VIP treatment at Giorgio Beverly Hills (no relation to Armani) and applied that five-star energy to Armani’s new Rodeo Drive flagship store, which opened that August to cater to celebs and LA’s “working rich,” as the LA Times dubbed them.
McDaniel later became president of the Rodeo Drive Committee, a group founded by Hayman to boost the iconic shopping strip (think luxe boutiques and palm-lined sidewalks in the heart of Beverly Hills). Under her watch, Armani became a red carpet staple, with media fawning over actresses rocking his gowns - and sometimes unisex suits - at the Oscars. Armani himself noted those Oscar dresses always sold out first, proving the awards season was his golden ticket.
Armani’s knack for leveraging entertainment didn’t stop at styling stars. His company’s Entertainment Industry Relations department - still kicking today - oversees celebrity ties and styling across all lines, setting the blueprint for other fashion houses to build their own VIP squads. From the Oscars to movie premieres, Armani understood that the red carpet wasn’t just glitz - it was a straight-up business move.
Reflecting on his journey, Armani once summed it up as a mix of “prestige and dreams” that ultimately led to cold, hard cash. From Milan to Malibu-style drama, he dressed Hollywood to sell to the world, turning every premiere into a billboard for his brand. His passing leaves a void, but his legacy? It’s stitched into every power suit and gown strutting down LA’s star-studded streets.