An conversation with Leonardo Simnocini, Poiesis
Building a Dream
There’s something timeless about Florence, a city steeped in artistry, architecture, and elegance. It’s where I was born, where I grew up, and where I decided to open my tailor’s shop. This city isn't just my hometown; it’s the place that shaped my identity as a craftsman.
This year, I turn 33. As I reflect on my journey so far, I realise that tailoring was never just a profession for me. It’s a lifelong dream, a calling, and above all, a form of expression rooted in tradition, patience, and beauty.
Inheriting a Legacy
My passion for tailoring might have started with my grandparents. My grandfather was a true Florentine man, stern and direct, yet always impeccably dressed. There was a kind of dignity in how he carried himself, a sense of style that needed no explanation.
My grandmother, on the other hand, was grace personified. She worked for Ferragamo and other iconic fashion houses. A seamstress by trade, she had an eye for detail and a feel for fabric that stayed with her all her life. Perhaps it was her influence, or the quiet inspiration of both of them, that planted the first seeds of this passion.
Discovering the Craft
After finishing high school, I found my first job at Gucci, not in the workshop, but on the sales floor. It was there that my interest in classic menswear began to take shape. I was captivated by the timeless lines of a well-cut suit and the way structure and softness could coexist in a single jacket. But selling wasn’t enough. I wanted to create.
So I enrolled in a tailoring school, determined to learn the craft from the ground up. Soon after, I began looking for a real apprenticeship, a place where I could observe, assist, and eventually contribute with my own hands.
Learning by Hand
I was fortunate to begin my apprenticeship at Liverano, one of Florence’s most respected tailoring houses. It was a humbling experience. I started with the simplest tasks: basting, stitching, and cutting under supervision. Over time, with patience, I learned to construct a jacket from scratch. Seven years passed in that workshop, and with each stitch, my confidence and identity as a tailor grew stronger.
Creating Poiesis
At 30, something shifted. I felt the pull to step away, to explore my path and vision. That’s when I decided to open my atelier, not just a place of work, but a space for reflection, artistry, and craft. I named it Poiesis.
More than a name, Poiesis is a philosophy. It comes from ancient Greek and refers to the act of creation, like a poet composing verses or a sculptor shaping marble. To me, it also represents something deeply human, the slow, deliberate process of making something meaningful with your hands.
In an age of fast fashion and disposable trends, Poiesis is a quiet rebellion. It’s about taking the time to care, to craft, and to wait. It’s about honouring the material, the process, and the person who will wear the garment.
Collecting with Care
One of my greatest joys as a tailor is sourcing vintage fabrics. Over the years, I’ve collected between 500 to 600 bolts of fabric, from light summer linens to rich winter flannels. There’s something irreplaceable about the textures, the weaves, and the stories embedded in these textiles. In my view, quality has a memory, and it’s something you can feel.
Each piece I make begins with a conversation, a fabric, a sketch. Slowly, with care and intention, it becomes something unique, not dictated by fashion but by personality and purpose.
Telling Stories in Cloth
Tailoring is not about trends. It’s about stories. Every cut I make, every stitch I sew, is guided by that belief. My role as a tailor is to translate character into cloth, to create garments that are not only beautiful but deeply personal.
This is who I am. My name is Leonardo Simnocini, and I’m a tailor. My atelier is not just a shop. It’s a sanctuary for those who believe that craftsmanship matters, that beauty takes time, and that Poiesis still has a place in the modern world.
