It all started in 1921 when Guccio Gucci—a guy who used to schlep luggage for fancy guests at London’s Savoy Hotel—decided to do a little something for himself. His inspiration? The high-end bags of the hotel’s elite clientele. So, naturally, he turned his experience into a luxury luggage business, opening a small shop in Florence.
Guccio’s shop catered to the fashionable elite, selling fine leather goods that would make any wealthy horseman or traveler swoon. Soon enough, what began as a one-man show became a family business, with his sons Vasco, Aldo, and Rodolfo getting involved. Family businesses are great, right? Until, of course, they’re not.
When Guccio passed away in 1953, his three sons inherited the company. And while the business thrived, so did the sibling rivalries. Aldo, the eldest, wanted to take Gucci to new heights, while Rodolfo was more old-school, resistant to his brother’s grand plans. Their power struggles turned into full-on warfare, and when Aldo started mass-producing Gucci products to broaden its appeal, things got uglier. Maurizio Gucci, Rodolfo’s son, wasn’t having any of it. He believed Aldo’s plan was cheapening the brand, turning Gucci from a symbol of luxury into something a little too mainstream. And so, the legal battles began.
By 1983, Maurizio had managed to wrestle control of Gucci from his uncles. But instead of riding off into the sunset as the victorious head of a fashion dynasty, things quickly went south. Maurizio, with his high-flying lifestyle and “go big or go home” mentality, began racking up massive debts. His attempt to reestablish Gucci’s luxe status with bold fashion moves didn’t quite land. By 1993, Maurizio was forced to sell his entire stake in Gucci to investors, marking the end of the Gucci family’s control of the brand. And yet, this was only the beginning of the drama.
The real twist in the Gucci tale comes two years later in 1995 when Maurizio was gunned down outside his Milan office. His murder didn’t just make headlines—it exploded onto the world stage when it was revealed that his ex-wife, Patrizia Reggiani, had orchestrated the hit. Patrizia, a glamorous socialite who’d once lived the high life with Maurizio in New York City, had become bitter after their split, even though her €650,000 a year alimony wasn’t exactly chump change (she once called it “a bowl of lentils”—hard life, right?). Enraged by Maurizio’s new relationship and losing her status as Lady Gucci, she hired a hitman to settle the score.
Patrizia, ever the drama queen, made no attempts to hide her feelings about Maurizio’s death. On the day he was killed, she famously scribbled the word paradeisos—Greek for paradise—in her diary. And though she denied her involvement in court, her menacing voicemails to Maurizio and his new girlfriend, Paola Franchi, told a different story. In the end, Patrizia was convicted of arranging the murder and served 18 years in prison, where she reportedly lived with a pet ferret and refused parole because, in her words, “I’ve never worked a day in my life, and I’m not going to start now.”
While the Gucci family’s control over the company ended in a hail of lawsuits and bullets, the brand itself emerged from the chaos stronger than ever. After Maurizio’s departure, Gucci brought in new talent and investors, slowly transforming itself into the fashion powerhouse we know today. The turnaround was cemented in the late ’90s with the hiring of Tom Ford, whose bold designs reignited the brand’s luxurious appeal. Gucci was back on top—and, thankfully, this time it stayed there without any family assassinations.
Gucci’s story isn’t just about leather bags and designer shoes—it’s a soap opera in stilettos, filled with betrayal, backstabbing, and murder. And while the family lost control, the brand survived and thrived. It’s proof that even in the cutthroat world of fashion, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Now, where’s our Gucci tote?