Pitti Uomo Press Discrimination – When Feeding the Press Depends on Who You Know

Since 2019, I’ve poured my own time, money, and skills into supporting Pitti Uomo, the world’s biggest menswear event. I’ve covered it relentlessly for MenStyleFashion, championing emerging brands, artisans, and giving international visibility that costs nothing to the organizers—except maybe a thank you and, dare I say, a warm meal.

You’d think, as accredited press, I’d be treated like the rest: with access to parking, the press room, and the infamous press restaurant. But apparently, I’m the exception.

Gracie Opulanza gets the press pass, yes. But when it comes to the press restaurant—suddenly the system breaks. The moment I request access, the gatekeepers point fingers.

“Ask Illaria,” they say every single year. And every single year, I do. And every year, the answer remains the same: silence, fogging, deflection.

Let me introduce you to Illaria. Think The Devil Wears Prada, but without the wit, warmth, or charm. One golden rule in press relations: never mistreat or starve your media. Hungry press can turn sour, and I’ve been made to feel like a beggar rather than the media professional I am.

When I asked to speak with Illaria again this year, she turned her back on me. I raised my voice. She whirled around with disdain, dismissing me in front of staff and fellow journalists. Her excuse? “Security. We serve 3,000 journalists.” As she looked me up and down, she decided I wasn’t there to work—I was there for free food.

What she failed to mention was that every year, after challenging her, my name eventually appears on the list. So how does that happen? Did security suddenly feel secure enough? Or did someone finally stop playing games?

She then claimed she’d never heard of MenStyleFashion—a blatant lie. I’ve had this exact discussion with her before. She’s well aware of who I am. But it’s easier to discredit someone than admit to a double-standard.

This Is Discrimmination

i’ve covered @pittiuomo_official for years, supporting designers and brands with international reach—without being paid, without asking for favours.
But when I dared question why I’m always left off the press restaurant list, I was insulted, dismissed, and now… threatened with exclusion from future events.

This is discrimination.
This is bullying.
This is fashion’s ugly truth.

I will continue to speak up—not just for me, but for every independent journalist and creative who’s been shut out for not playing the game.

Enter William from France, her sidekick, who rocks up to the press office at 1pm. He too “has never heard of me.” Odd, considering I’m standing in the press room with a valid press pass issued by Pitti Uomo itself. I asked him how I got accredited if nobody knows who I am. He dodged the question.

Instead of fixing the issue, he focused on my statement: “I won’t be returning to Pitti Uomo.” He clung to it like a child to a balloon. “Then there’s nothing I can do,” he repeated gleefully. That one line gave him all the permission he needed to do absolutely nothing.

Let’s be clear. At any point, Illaria or William could have typed my name into a spreadsheet and added it to the list. But this wasn’t about rules. This was about power, ego, and punishment.

I’ve worked in fashion for years. I know fear-based management when I see it. The staff looked terrified, frozen, unsure of whether to defend me or run for cover.

One even whispered, “What’s the big deal? Why won’t they just add your name?” Exactly.

This isn’t about food. It’s about discrimination. It’s about accountability. It’s about bullying in a space that claims to celebrate creativity and diversity but fails miserably at basic professionalism. And yes, as an Italian, I have never been denied food. Until now.

This kind of elitist gatekeeping reflects a deeper rot in fashion. It’s not about what you contribute. It’s about who you know. It’s about whether you fit their idea of press. It’s about punishing people who speak up, who don’t toe the line, who refuse to be silenced.

Fashion has always been political. But when it turns into a playground for egos who get off on excluding others, it stops being inspiring. It becomes a farce.

To Illaria and William—your power plays don’t scare me. But they should worry everyone who cares about fair treatment and real press freedom in this industry.

And to Pitti Uomo—I’ll be watching how you handle this. Because real leadership isn’t about who you let in the restaurant. It’s about who you let be heard.

Official Response from Lapo Cianchi, Head of Communication and Deputy General Manager of Pitti Immagine:

Good morning,

I am Lapo Cianchi, head of communication and deputy general manager of Pitti Immagine. I answer your request for details about the press restaurant.

The press restaurant is a service that we try to offer to as many journalists and guests as possible, but it is clear that admissions are limited due to space issues and that, for this reason, we must make a selection, taking into consideration various aspects of the publications and their relationship with Pitti Uomo. Criteria that I will not list now, but which are those normally adopted on occasions such as these.

Any possible shortcoming on our part, any possible mistake, any apparent inconsistency on our side in making the selection does not justify rude reactions and verbal aggression such as yours.

For this reason I will grant you the food pass for today and tomorrow, but starting from the next edition you will not be a welcome guest and we will not even issue an accreditation to the event.

Best regards,
Lapo Cianchi