A seasoned architect of luxury brands takes on his most personal assignment yet, uplifting a 70-year-old Italian icon and restoring its place as the ultimate expression of femininity.
Pascal Perrier is not a man who confuses motion with progress. Over a career spanning more than three decades at the apex of the global luxury industry, he has learnt that the most dangerous thing a new chief executive can do is arrive with answers before he has asked the right questions. "It's very difficult to repeat success," he says. "When I start a new job, I am always very mindful and careful not to have the arrogance to say I know - I did it, but I did it in a different brand, with different people, in a different period. Meanwhile, things have changed."
The sentiment is characteristic of the man. Perrier is warm but precise, voluble but grounded, the kind of executive who earns the confidence of investors and colleagues alike because he appears, at all times, to know exactly where he is going and how much road remains. What makes his current assignment remarkable is that even he admits it is unlike anything he has done before.
When Perrier was appointed Group Chief Executive of La Perla in 2018 following its acquisition by the Amsterdam-based investment firm Sapinda, he faced a challenge that bore no resemblance to the polished institutional machinery of his previous postings. "I have never been here before," he says, with a candour that feels entirely unperformed. "Never worked for an industry like this. Never worked for a small company. Never worked for a company that was initially in financial distress. Never worked with private investors. Never worked with Italians. Never worked with unions. So it was a big reset."
The biography that precedes that reset is formidable. Perrier spent thirteen years at Burberry, nine of them as Chief Executive of its Asia-Pacific operations, during which time the region became the brand's largest and most fully integrated market. Before that, he held senior roles at the Gucci Group, where he oversaw the acquisitions and subsequent integrations of Yves Saint Laurent and Balenciaga, and at Céline and Saint Laurent. His schooling in the architecture of desire, the mechanics of aspiration, and the commercial logic of extraordinary things, was conducted at the very institutions that defined what luxury could be at the turn of the millennium.
La Perla required something different. Founded in Bologna in 1954 by Ada Masotti, a visionary corsetière who understood, long before the language existed, that what a woman wore closest to her body was inseparable from how she understood herself, the brand had spent the preceding two decades in varying states of mismanagement. A succession of owners, from the founding family to American private equity to an Italian billionaire who pivoted aggressively into womenswear, handbags, and footwear, had left it commercially weakened and strategically diffuse. At one point, Perrier notes, there were thirty different La Perla sub-brands. By the time Sapinda took over, the company was in financial difficulty and its core identity had been significantly diluted.
Perrier spent three months studying the case before accepting the role. "After three months I said: this is doable. It is certainly doable. And we are going to make it the most beautiful thing we can ever deliver in our lives." He brought in the management consultancy Bain to conduct a comprehensive global survey of luxury consumers in key cities across France, the United Kingdom, the United States, the Middle East, China, Hong Kong, South Korea, and Japan. What that research revealed was both sobering and galvanising.
The luxury lingerie segment, which Perrier defines as the ultra-premium tier he calls "luxury luxury," is worth approximately three billion dollars within a broader luxury goods market of around 300 billion dollars. It is, structurally speaking, a category that punches beneath its weight. When interviewed luxury consumers were asked to name three luxury lingerie brands, La Perla was cited by nearly 30 per cent of respondents, ahead of Dior at 16 per cent and on a par with Chanel at 15 per cent. The brand equity was unmistakably present. What was missing was the commercial architecture to capitalise on it. Consumers told Bain they loved the brand but associated it with romantic occasions, not the fuller arc of a woman's daily life.
"The customer told us: I love you, but for occasionally, from time to time - and the most common occasion is a romantic moment. But to go to work, no. It's not how I see it." For Perrier, that was not a verdict but a brief. "Here is an opportunity," he concluded, "because it means we have not introduced ourselves properly."
The strategic response has been methodical and, by the standards of fashion's habitual restlessness, unusually patient. Perrier's first move was to strip the business back to its essential categories: bodywear, which encompasses underwear and ready-to-wear; swimwear, in which La Perla has deep heritage and, as Perrier points out, the distinct commercial advantage of visibility; and a considered element of loungewear, defined as pieces that travel comfortably between the private and the semi-public. Menswear, which had occupied floor space and diluted the brand's singular focus on women, was discontinued. "If we say we are working for a woman, we do it because we concentrate," he explains, without apology.
The product philosophy is built around the concept he calls "everyday luxury," and he is careful to clarify that the word "everyday" is not a softening of the proposition. "I don't mean the product will be cheaper, not at all. Lifestyle." The aspiration is to accompany a woman across the full range of her moments, from the professional to the intimate, from January to December, across every geography. "The woman has many more moments now. Her life is incredibly rich, and that creates opportunity to serve her."
That service is delivered through what is, by any measure, an extraordinary manufacturing process. Between the moment a garment is designed and the moment it arrives in a La Perla store, online or offline, fifty-two weeks elapse. The precision is not incidental to the brand; it is constitutive of it. "This is a product that cannot be average," Perrier says. "If it does not fit, or if it is not comfortable, then you do not serve the customer." The workforce responsible for that precision is predominantly female: the garments are designed by women, developed by women, handcrafted by women, sold by women, and worn by women. "Made by her," as Perrier puts it; a phrase that has become both a compass and a claim.
The scale of the opportunity is substantial. The global luxury lingerie market stood at approximately US$16.2 billion in 2024 and is projected to reach US$28.5 billion by 2033, growing at a compound annual rate of 6.8 per cent. Europe currently dominates with roughly 38 per cent of global market share, underpinned by the heritage of brands such as La Perla, though the Asia-Pacific region is a critical and expanding theatre for growth. La Perla's positioning within this landscape is, in Perrier's framing, closer to a luxury category all of its own. "We compete with no one," he says, with the equanimity of someone who has thought the question through. "We are the best friend of any luxury house. The best friend of jewellery, the best friend of ready-to-wear."
Nowhere is that strategic positioning more nuanced than in Asia, and particularly in Hong Kong, a city to which Perrier has an attachment that is both professional and personal. He spent a decade living there during his Burberry years, and visited almost monthly for the two decades preceding his time in residence. His affection for the city is unguarded: "There is no business comparison. The efficiency, you can go from downtown to wherever you are hiking in just ten minutes or fifteen minutes." He is clear-eyed, too, about the shifts that have reshaped the city's luxury landscape in recent years, noting that the return of mainland Chinese consumers and the broader regional recovery make Hong Kong's three La Perla boutiques a considered rather than cautious footprint. "We cultivate our customers," he says. "We want to cultivate the cosiness, the element of home. If home is too big, it's not home."
The question of how La Perla communicates its particular kind of intimacy to Asian consumers is one Perrier has considered carefully. Some have asked whether the brand's visual language, elegant and unabashedly feminine, translates across the cultural gradient from Milan to Hong Kong to Tokyo. His answer is characteristically direct: the communication stays consistent; the product adapts. "In Asia, the body shape is different. Culturally, you do not show the same thing. So on product, we pay very special attention." Push-up styles that are standard in European markets may be configured differently for Asian fits; the silhouette responds to the market, while the aesthetic tone remains unified around a signature softness. "It is subtle, elegant, caring, luxurious," he says. "Very, very soft."
That softness is not passivity. Perrier is building something with genuine structural ambition, and the recent content partnership with Tencent in China, a three-part series covering the brand's origins, its craftsmanship, and its relationship with the contemporary woman, is evidence of a communications strategy that treats depth as a competitive advantage. The forthcoming release of new swimwear lines and the planned appointment of brand ambassadors, chosen with precision for their alignment with the brand's values, suggest a house that is gathering confidence without sacrificing control.
At the core of that confidence is a belief about what luxury is ultimately selling. Perrier does not think it is a product, or even an experience. It is, at its most essential, a feeling. He makes the point with characteristic economy. "People will not remember what you told them, but they will remember how you made them feel. So you have to make them feel good. They will remember you and come back to you."
It is a deceptively simple formulation for an industry that lavishes enormous resources on logos, marketing, and spectacle. But it is also, as Perrier would likely point out, the founding principle of the woman in Bologna who began cutting corsets in 1954. Ada Masotti understood that what she was making was not merely a garment but a proposition about how a woman might move through the world: with care, with precision, with the quiet confidence of someone who knows that the most important luxury is the one that no one else can see.
That idea, carried across seventy years, two continents, a series of ownership changes, and one very particular Frenchman's exacting vision for what a brand can become, remains La Perla's singular and durable promise. It's not the superficial or the exterior that matters after all, but what lies beneath.
