an influencer rises from the ashes

on chiara ferragni

Over the last couple of years, there are few things that have held my attention as persistently, stubbornly, and oftentimes, embarrassingly, as Chiara Ferragni’s legal, personal, and professional woes. This is not something I’m proud of, which unfortunately is not enough to make it false. Self-awareness, as per usual, remains a prison of one’s own making.

I first started drafting this TWO YEARS AGO, and to be clear by “started drafting” I do mean this:

This might not surprise anyone who’s been familiar with my ever-evolving digital footprint for a while now, but I spent several years very much embroiled in the fashion blogging world, and Ferragni was one of the first girlies I followed. Like, I was regularly on her pink blog The Blonde Salad, a website coded by Satan himself, by the way, if I am remembering the comic sans text correctly; I was a teenager oohing and aahing over her outfits and fashion show appearances all over the world, reading her Italian and English copy about her little dog and her little Italian boyfriend and her charmed little life in Milan, back when she was still a law student and a fashion blogger.

In March 2015, Ferragni was the first blogger to grace a Vogue cover. (Photo: Vogue España)

And then when Chiara left her little Italian boyfriend¹ and briefly, Italy, I kept up with the outfits and the life changes of it all, following along on Instagram as she moved to Los Angeles and expanded her brand, dated and then broke up with her hot photographer boyfriend; and in 2016, at this point in my early twenties and as such soon-to-be-lacking the benefit of the doubt an undeveloped prefrontal cortex gives a girl, I still remained a captive audience when she began her highly publicized relationship with Fedez, the Italian rapper of whose existence I am only aware because he and Ferragni went on a bit of a media blitz tour, got married, and had two children together (not necessarily in that order of chronology or priority).²

All of these comings and goings I observed over more than a decade. (We can all agree, I’m sure: a very good use of my time.)

When in early 2020 Italy became one of the first major epicenters of the pandemic and Ferragni and Fedez (couple name Ferragnez, fyi to the uninitiated) took it upon themselves to become Inspiring™. He performed and streamed DJ sets from their balcony while she turned on her front-facing camera and spoke up about quarantining, wearing facemasks, and supporting hospital staff.

They were Good People, damn it, and they would document themselves being Good People! You think they were gonna let David Guetta end evil and racism all on his own? Absolutely not. Main Character Energy never sleeps, and neither did Chiara and Fedez.

Chiara Ferragni and Fedez Raise over 3 Million For Coronavirus Intensive Care Units (L'Officiel)

Italian govt enlists top influencers to promote COVID masks (Reuters)

They would spread the gospel of their own goodness even if it killed them. And, well. The road to hell is famously paved, isn’t it?

Which brings us, in a not-so-roundabout-way, to the gloriously named Pandorogate.

This is the kind of smile that only foreign gossip can bring btw. Shoutout to this coat, languishing away in a storage unit somewhere.

Miraculously, I was myself in Italy (see above) when, in December 2023, the Event that became known as Pandorogate fully descended upon us. And thank GOD. There are few things I appreciate more than being fluent in a local scandal. My little way of participating in the culture, if you will.

Of course if you’re a normal person, unencumbered by the heavy burden of Knowing Useless Things That Matter Only To Fellow Chronically Unwell People on the Internet, you’ll doubtlessly and logically ask yourself some version of the following questions: what was/is/could possibly be Pandorogate? How are we still talking about it today, over three years after its initial rumblings in December 2022? And most importantly: why should I care? These are important queries. These are queries worth getting into.

The evolution of Chiara

You should know that as part of her branding strategy, Ferragni had gradually pivoted from humble blogger to Businesswoman™ in the years running up to Pandorogate, and the next step in her evolution was Philanthrophist/Humanitarian™, in the vein of, I don’t know, Melinda Gates … Jane Goodall? Audrey Hepburn, if she’d had an Instagram account and no shame?

If you’re new to Ferragni World and this conceit sounds preposterous to you, believe me that I understand, but trust that I would not lead you astray. This is really the potential that Ferragni and the people orbiting her saw in the influencer—delusion, a necessary element of success, was built into the brand. You do unfortunately have to admire that. Would I, personally, have added some Icarian failsafes into the formula? Well, sure. But then we wouldn’t have a story to tell.

And the story, give or take a bit of oversimplification, is as follows:

In 2022, as part of her newish I-am-the-modern-Madonna-hear-me-roar³ persona, Ferragni decided to partner with Italian food company Balocco, wherein Balocco would sell a special edition of the traditional Christmas pandoro with the Chiara Ferragni branding and proceeds from the same would go towards the children’s research hospital Regina Margherita.

Photo: @chiaraferragni on Instagram.

You see where we’re going with this.

(And if you’re thinking oh wow that must’ve been the first partnership of its kind for Ferragni, how fun, here’s where I tell you: no. This is a woman whose zeal to stamp her branding on consumer products ranging from Evian water bottles to Nespresso accoutrements to Pigna stationery to Oreos was only beaten by another, earlier Northern Italian’s enthusiasm for unwelcome flag-planting. Her licensing fervor was something to behold … probably by the Barbie (2020) marketing team.)

Pandorogate breaks, followed by a seemingly endless series of unfortunate events

As was first reported in December 2022 by Domani, something was slightly rotten in the state of Ferragni, for what was promoted as a purely—or at the very least, partly—philanthropic endeavor was seemingly little more than a marketing scheme, as it appeared the hospital had received a single one-off €50,000 donation, in contrast to the significantly higher proceeds from the Balocco-Ferragni campaign. Now I don’t know if you guys are up to date on your legalese, but in certain circles, this is sometimes called fraud. And wouldn’t you know it: the Italian state decided to have a little looksie.⁴