Made in Italy

If I asked you to name fashion's most powerful woman, I suppose you might come up with Donatella Versace, or perhaps Vivienne Westwood; both grande dames with chequered histories and potent images to match.

But if pure maths and genuine global reach form the basis of the calculation, then the correct answer is surely Frida Giannini, the delicate 36-year-old Italian who is steering that monumental juggernaut, Gucci, to evergreater success. As the creative director of the entire brand, Frida has increased profits by an estimated 20 per cent since she took the helm in 2006 and the house of Gucci now has a turnover of almost £2 billion.

Yet the lack of fanfare surrounding her appointment, combined with her almost devotional approach to the job, have kept her firmly out of view.

PPR, it seemed, was unwilling to replace Ford with one person and so split the job between three, with accessories going to Frida, menswear to John Ray and womenswear, the most conspicuous of the triumvirate, to Alessandra Facchinetti, who resigned two weeks after her second show received a critical mauling. Facchinetti later went to Valentino, but again resigned after two seasons. Frida became head of readytowear womenswear at Gucci in 2005 and sole creative director in 2006. 'I was very frightened,' she says. 'I was thrilled and honoured but I couldn't sleep for some days because, of course, you have to decide if you are going to change direction [from Ford's welloiled, sharp, slightly porno, velveteen vision] dramatically or do something in between. I was very confused and very alone. You only have yourself in the mirror; you can't ask for support. My instinct was to change everything 180 degrees.'

Frida was born in Rome in 1972 to Antonio Giannini, an architect, and Sandra Vellani, an art history and literature teacher. She is an only child and, as such, radiates self-sufficiency and a degree of stubbornness. The apartments she grew up in were always full of books - piles of them on the floor, on tables, on shelves - and pencils rolled around everywhere abandoned by her father in the middle of sketching a draft. He was always falling in love with new apartments and Frida estimates that the family had moved 13 times by the time she reached 18. 'The environment was very particular and very artistic,' she says. 'Of course, I would pick up the pencils and try sketching. My mother never drew anything in her life except maybe a sun with a few rays sticking out, but my father had a very good hand.'

Sandra, however, may have been responsible for the robust Seventies feel that seems to course through Frida's vision. 'My mother was completely Seventies, so it was patchwork dresses and denim flares. She dressed me the same way,' she says. 'She wore big Dior sunglasses and big platform sandals. She was a sort of hippie but with a mink coat and a Gucci bag.' Her maternal grandmother, Luciana, provided a treasure trove of inspiration in the form of her own fashion boutique, Elle, which she owned and ran until retiring four years ago at the age of 80.

Frida, the only child of working parents, would spend most afternoons at Elle. 'I was always playing with mannequins and wigs and jackets and underwear. Or I would draw. My grandmother still has all her old diaries full of my stories about princesses and horses.'

As a teenager, Frida became even more interested in clothes. Prêt-à-porter had exploded in Italy during the Eighties, with Giorgio Armani, Gianni Versace and Gianfranco Ferré; all contributing to a revolution in European fashion. Milan was an industrial city exploding with both creative and financial energy. This atmosphere of opportunity, combined with her own passion for music, did not escape Frida. 'Spandau Ballet, Bryan Ferry and Madonna, of course,' she says. 'The first time I went to the cinema with friends it was to see Desperately Seeking Susan and from that moment I felt there was something really intriguing there.'

Her parents were bemused by her determination to study fashion. They thought architecture a far more sensible option. 'They thought, "Fashion? What is fashion?" It was quite weird for them - they were a couple of intellectuals - to have a daughter with this feeling for fashion which to them was like a dream and not really pragmatic.' They agreed to pay her fees at Rome's Academy of Costume and Fashion but warned her that, if her grades were below par, they would withdraw funding. She consistently came top of the class.

Her first job was for a company called Swish Jeans, but it was a leisurewear brand and, in her eyes, 'not really fashion'. She resigned after a year and, in 1996, sent her CV to every high-fashion company in Italy. 'I was desperate as no one was calling me and I was thinking, maybe I'm not talented. Then one day I received calls from MaxMara, Moschino and Fendi.' She did all three interviews in one day, dashing from Rome to Milan and back again. All three offered her a job on womenswear and she went with Fendi - to her mind the most unashamedly luxurious of the three.

After a couple of years she moved over to the accessories team and was instrumental in creating the famous Fendi Baguette bag, perhaps the first of the superbags that have since made so much money for the fashion houses. She spent years recreating the Baguette - so named by Lagerfeld because the little bag tucked under the arm just so and could be carted around like the slender French loaf - again and again, in sequins, embroidery, crocodile, feathers, before receiving a call from Tom Ford at Gucci in 2002. 'I was so excited and, of course, I was in love with him,' she says. 'I thought he was so beautiful and charming. He told me that he wanted me to come and work on his team because he was tired of seeing all his friends carrying Fendi handbags. He wanted to see them with Gucci handbags.'