The Guys from Gucci

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Gucci is so successful that on the cutting edges of fashion Gucci-bashing is hip. At the Paris shows in March, gold Gucci logos had been spray-painted on the sidewalk outside the major shows. According to an e-mail sent to the trade paper Women's Wear Daily, the graffiti was the work of fashion students, who said they were "tired of the Ford imperialism." (Demonstrations aren't what they used to be: many assumed Gucci was behind it.) "Bring me the head of Tom Ford," reads a vintage Yves Saint Laurent shirt made by the New York designers Imitation of Christ. "I think he's ruined Gucci," designer Tara Subkoff told WWD. Pressed for details, the worst critics can come with is that Ford is "commercial." Retorts Ford: "Commercial? Commercial is a compliment. It means it looks great and people want it."

The fashion editors waiting for 45 minutes in an unheated warehouse in London for the Alexander McQueen show in February weren't expecting commercial. Yet McQueen, one of the heroes of the cutting-edge fashion scene, is now in the Gucci Group. The son of a London taxi driver, he is known for shows that deliver some of the best theatrics — and clothing — of any living designer. They're the kind of shows that even the most jaded fashion editors will remember. They caught the eye of Arnault, who hired McQueen to design for LVMH's Givenchy. Two years later, he renewed McQueen's contract for another three years. But from the start there had been rumblings that McQueen wasn't happy — LVMH wasn't investing enough in Givenchy and McQueen wasn't being given enough control over external aspects of the brand, like advertising.

Last June, De Sole was at a Vogue Italia party in Monte Carlo filling in for Ford, who couldn't be there. McQueen introduced himself and asked if he could have his picture taken with De Sole. Afterward he asked McQueen what he intended to do with the photo. "I'm going to send it to Bernard Arnault," McQueen replied. The photo never made it to Arnault — McQueen keeps it in a safe in his office — but when both returned to London, they started talking. By November McQueen was telling Arena magazine that he'd said to Givenchy executives, "'Fire me!' Because that's what I wanted anyway."

The official announcement that McQueen had sold 51% of his company to Gucci Group was made in December. This time it was De Sole's turn to steal the headlines. The week before, LVMH had accused Gucci of issuing a lucrative package of secret stock options to De Sole and Ford in exchange for having their support in a Pinault deal for Gucci. The charges were eventually dismissed by the court. "It was a big hoopla," said De Sole. "But it was total bullshit. And in a bizarre way I think Arnault is going to regret it. People are coming to me saying, 'You give stock options? Great!'"

The fallout hit McQueen harder. LVMH canceled the full-blown presentations of his next two Givenchy collections, yet it refused to let him out of his contract. Asked why he didn't just fire McQueen, Arnault replied, "Because we are polite." Some of the things LVMH executives have said off the record haven't been so polite. "He was very frustrated because of the success of John Galliano," said one, referring to the designer at Christian Dior. "The fact is what he does doesn't have the same level of taste. He was very jealous." McQueen laughs: "I was more envious than jealous because I was working at a house that was scraping at the walls for more budgets. It's just bitchy. LVMH is a multinational conglomerate that's worth billions, and they're saying such pitiful things. It shows they're an insecure company. I find it really bizarre."

Neither De Sole nor Ford will talk about it, but in addition to signing new talents like McQueen, McCartney and Ghesquière, they've also been quietly supporting other talented young designers. When Hussein Chalayan, who held the title of British designer of the year, declared voluntary bankruptcy last year, Gucci stepped in to lend him office space and money for his next collection. American designer Jeremy Scott is also said to be a beneficiary of the company's largesse. The sums aren't big enough to worry analysts, but Morgan Stanley's Claire Kent does wonder if developing these little-known names will take its toll on management's time. "I don't see why they're doing it, to be honest," Kent says. "Even if they're relatively successful, it won't be important to the group."

One reason may be that it's important to Ford. Designing for two major houses hasn't stopped him from thinking about his future. "I'm in the last year of my 30s," he says. "I don't want to be 65 and struggling to keep up with 25-year-olds." And at 57, the future is on De Sole's mind too. "I think the greatest thing I can do for Gucci at some point is to retire. I don't want to be like one of those American ceos who gets thrown out by the board. I want to leave while I'm on top." De Sole has long commended Ford on his business sense, but does that mean he thinks Ford is qualified to take over as ceo? "Absolutely," says De Sole.

To do that, Ford would do well to take a lesson from De Sole on how to handle stress, rumors and rivalry, and to keep a single-minded focus on the business. On the chauffeured drive from the airport to his offices in London's Grafton Street on that busy day last week when the stock price was catapulting, De Sole had his mobile phone turned off. He was thinking only about where one of his new brands, Boucheron, should be sourcing its watch parts.