Dallas Days and New York Nights November 13, 2021 – Posted in: Writer

Here is a short excerpt from Gucci Wars – Jenny Gucci’s Story, Chapter 9:

The year is 1979 and Jenny and Paolo have moved to New York where they quickly find themselves at very heart of society life. However not everyone is welcoming … Maurizio’s wife, Patrizia (who would later be known as The Black Widow), feels her position as the leading Gucci Lady in New York is being threatened by Jenny. We all now know that  status meant everything to Patrizia … ultimately it would even drive her to murder …

With New York society watching, it was very important to look good for such occasions and I made a careful choice for the Metropolitan Museum Costume Ball that year. I had found a beautiful and unusual dress by a young Florentine designer. It was quite exquisite, tiered with a large frill underneath covered with a layer of real silk paper taffeta on top. It was so elaborate that it’s hard to describe, but I remember that it had a gently flared shape with some pleats and an area of embroidery down the front. Its colour graduated from a dark, chocolate-brown at the top to a pale, pinky-beige at the bottom. I had chocolate-brown shoes and evening bag.

It was a terribly individual dress, completely unique and a real head-turner. I was tall enough to carry it off and Paolo smiled his approval when he saw me in it. The arrangement was that Paolo and I would share a limousine with Maurizio and Patrizia, and we would arrive at the ball together.

We met up first at their apartment in the Olympic Tower. Patrizia greeted us looking very elegant in a pale-pink shift dress covered in shimmering opaque sequins; it suited her petite frame perfectly and she looked lovely.

She took one look at me and almost burst out laughing.

‘Jenny, you look quite charming,’ she sniggered insincerely. ‘What an unusual dress…’ in a tone of voice Sue Ellen would have been proud of. Fortunately, I had enough confidence in my choice of outfit not to be bothered by the snide remark and smiled happily at the photographers as we stepped on to the red carpet. Flash bulbs popped throughout the evening and the press was very much in evidence to capture the cream of New York society in action.

I woke up the next morning to a furious phone call from Patrizia. ‘How dare you!’ she shouted.

I had no idea what she was going on about.

‘I am Mrs Gucci in New York – not you!’

I was none the wiser.

‘Go to the newsagent’s, then you’ll see.’

So I did – and there, on the front page of Women’s Wear Daily, was my picture and I had to admit the Florentine dress did look magnificent. The inside story hailed the stylish new arrival on the New York social scene – Jenny Gucci, wife of Paolo. It was hardly my fault that poor Patrizia didn’t get a mention.

But she was not giving up that easily. Patrizia was irrationally terrified of losing her social position, which was absurd. Paolo and I were never attracted to that way of life and were happy to live our private lives quietly, preferring to spend the little free time we had together relaxing with our feet up or eating informal suppers around the kitchen table with friends and my family. 

    Patrizia was determined that there would only be one ‘Lady Gucci’ in New York. She decided to take her issues to Aldo demanding that I wouldn’t have a high profile role. She didn’t want anyone surpassing her.  The fact that Patrizia was used to behaving like a diva (although she couldn’t sing) and  that I had the ability to impress with my voice was a huge feather in my cap and the source of massive envy on her part. Status meant everything to Patrizia Reggiani and years later, when I would think back on all our meetings and conversations, that fact – that status meant everything – kept returning. Could her motive to do the unthinkable have been not just money and straightforward jealousy of a younger woman, but a fear of losing her prestigious position as the wife of Maurizio Gucci ? At the time I would publicly announce, ‘never in a million years’,  but looking back on our time together in New York, perhaps the signs were there – even though, she and Maurizio appeared like a normal – albeit high powered and attractive – couple who were comfortable and casual with each other and who had two gorgeous daughters.

    Aldo told me later some details of the confrontation about me. Patrizia had stormed into his office: ’You cannot have two Gucci women starring in New York… and it has to be me’, she had shouted. Apparently he had told her not to be so stupid. ‘Jenny is my daughter-in-law and she is great company and also very talented – you are just going to have to get used to it.’

To outside appearances she accepted the situation and was always cool and charming to my face; but, behind my back, she didn’t use my name instead referring to me as ‘that stupid English girl’.

    I remained friendly with Maurizio, while his wife and I were coolly courteous to each other in public but, clearly, we would never be close. I wasn’t bothered at all by the occasional contretemps. Like Aldo, I also had other things on my mind… babies.