Once upon a time in London, there was an Arabian prince that also was a showroom owner. The showroom looked more like a palace than anything else: a huge, white building a few steps away from Oxford street. Working there was really mysterious: you rarely knew what was going on, since the owner’s family – i.e. the management – were always talking in their native language amongst themselves. We, the staff, were left guessing. In such wonderful atmosphere, some of the most famous Italian brands were represented. The showroom had a wonderful restaurant, run by an experienced chef, and when some of the staff had to go somewhere for the company, there was a limo taking them around, with a driver and a body guard and – of course – blacked windows. And as it happens in fashion, one day you’re in, and the next day… you might be out. Sales staff use to literally disappear all of a sudden: for no reason, one might arrive at his desk one morning, and find that all his stuff had disappear. No access to his computer, his documents, nothing: somebody would very politely simply take him to the door. It was really mysterious: one day you might be the management’s best friend, be with them at all parties, in most exclusive clubs, and the following morning, all of a sudden, it could be “good bye”!

So what was happening there? It took me a few months to understand…