I grew up watching my grandmother cut patterns on her kitchen table in Genoa. She never wasted a centimetre of fabric. That economy stuck with me through Central Saint Martins, through six years at a major house, and into starting my own label in 2019.
There was no grand plan. I had a handful of fabrics I'd been hoarding from mills my family had worked with, a rented studio space in Shepherd's Bush that was barely big enough for a cutting table, and one client who trusted me to make her a coat. That coat led to three more commissions, then a small collection I showed to friends, then a website.
Rapallini operates from that same studio, though we've expanded into the unit next door. I do the design and pattern cutting. My team of two handles sampling, production coordination, and the occasional crisis when a fabric delivery goes missing somewhere between Biella and Heathrow.
We manufacture in small runs with a family-owned atelier in northern Italy. Nobody in that workshop makes more than 200 units of anything. The relationship works because we both prefer quality over volume.
The clothes are for women who have stopped chasing trends. They want something well-made that lasts and feels right. I'm not interested in making anyone look fashionable. I want them to look like themselves, just slightly better dressed.
