Why “Made in Italy” matters

[Courtesy MAROL.]

Full disclosure: while I work for MAROL of Bologna, and this post was inspired by my recent trip to Italy, it is not sponsored or directed by the company. The following are my own thoughts on the issue.

There is a debate in the artisanal clothing world as to whether country of origin matters. Some will say it doesn’t and argue that anyone, anywhere, can be taught the skills to replicate the finest shoes, shirts or suits any other country or region can offer. Proponents of the opposing view point to ineffable, almost magical reasoning to explain why their products, from their region, are unique and often superior.

I believe country of origin matters, but not for some esoteric reason. My numerous visits to Italy – and not to mention Cuba, Portugal and Japan – have taught me that there is something that makes each region unique, something that guides a person’s actions, from what we eat to what we make. It guides our perceptions and our concepts of quality and taste.

It’s not magic. It’s culture.

(To make sure I’m not misunderstood, it’s not in our blood. What I mean by “culture” is the world we grow up in, the food we eat, the way the people around us live their lives. The culture that surrounds us makes us who we are but it isn’t in our DNA.)

For the sake of brevity, I’ll focus on Italy, since I was just there. And it just so happens that much of the world values Italian culture right now.

“Made in Italy” is a commodity. So much so that companies bend over backwards to stick that label on their products even if only the smallest part (but the most expensive to produce) was actually made there. I’ve even seen products  “Designed in Italy,” suggesting some magical quality to its land and air. These companies are trying to cash in on the world’s fascination, and belief, in Italian creativity. And while this is being abused by many, there is something special, something unique to Italian creation that is worth celebrating.

For me, Italian culture can be boiled down to one simple ingredient: art. In simple terms, art is not elitist in Italy, it is a part of every day life. An Italian isn’t being facetious when he calls his simple family meal a work of art. Art is woven into Italian life. From the racing culture of the 1930s to the neo-realist films of the 1960s. And deeply through the country’s cuisine and fashion industry. Every Italian grows up with this appreciation of art, this belief that art is a part of life.

Grow up in Italy and you don’t simply make something, you make something artistically. You have been brought up to value and prioritise beauty (the current Italian concept of “beauty”). All those years of experiencing Italian culture, of having it seep into your consciousness, affect you deeply.  And that cannot be taught.

How culture is expressed in clothing manufacture can be subtle, however. The way a shoe last tapers, the shape of an inner suit pocket. Sometimes even more subtle than that. Culture can be expressed in the design of a garment, before an inch of fabric has been cut. Or in a series of almost invisible steps that combine to create a garment unique to that region. Again, this isn’t magical, it is simply the culturally congruent perceptions and desires that guide the hands of most artisans. In Italy, in general, that cultural education means striving for quality and art. It also means a population—and customers—who on the whole expect and demand a certain level of quality and beauty. For instance, it’s hard to imagine that a Las Vegas style buffet would succeed in most Italian centres. Because for generations, Italian culture has valued “better” over “more.”

I’ll finish by changing the focus to cigars. Cuban cigars are unique for a number of reasons, some of the most obvious being soil, agricultural methods and the tobacco seed itself. But just as important, I believe, are the Cuban farmers, blenders and rollers. They have grown up in a culture that honours tobacco. More concretely, they have grown up with a certain taste of tobacco. And that taste, that ideal flavour profile, guides their actions. In general, they are less concerned with rolling a cigar perfectly then they are with the perfect Cuban taste. Cuban cigars are not necessarily the best in the world, but I can tell on my first couple of puffs if a cigar is Cuban or not. And what attracts me to Cuban cigars is not just the taste, it is the history and tradition of Cuban cigars. In other words, their culture.