Eternal Ruby

True luxury lies not in possession but in the philosophy that animates it — in the values preserved, the craft honoured, and the human warmth that transforms commerce into connection. Roberto Coin, jeweller, hotelier, and creator of a global brand bearing his name, shares his unconventional journey from the hospitality industry to haute joaillerie, and reveals why his company remains defiantly private, family-owned, and committed to dressing each woman according to her own story.

I am, by most accounts, a rather peculiar jeweller. My formal training was in hospitality — I attended the hotel school in Lausanne, built my career managing restaurants and hotels in the Channel Islands. When I lost my parents at a young age, I married at twenty and threw myself into the world of service: first a café, then a restaurant, finally a substantial hotel property where we served nearly a thousand meals daily. French and Italian chefs, never British — the food in those days was, I must confess, quite dreadful.

But like most Italians, I harboured a deep fascination with beauty: fashion, art, the particular grace of well-designed objects. Jewellery captivated me most of all. In 1984, I began as a hobbyist, surrounding myself with experienced craftsmen who taught me the technical foundations of the trade. Within a few years, I realised I could build something substantial. I designed pieces that found their way to Tiffany and other established houses. Then, in 1996, I took the plunge and launched Roberto Coin as a brand.

Today we operate in over sixty countries with nearly a thousand points of sale. We remain entirely private — no investors, no partners, no sale to conglomerates despite constant offers. My wife and I built this together, and now my three grown children work alongside us: my eldest son oversees manufacturing, my daughter handles quality control, my youngest manages finance. We are, at heart, a family enterprise. Recently I became a great-grandfather, which reminds me daily that legacy matters more than quarterly earnings.

What distinguishes us, I believe, is a fundamental philosophy: I want to dress each woman according to her personality, her circumstances, her particular moment in life. You and your colleague are different people: different ages, different partners, different tastes. Why should you wear identical jewellery? We create six hundred new models annually, ranging from pieces at a thousand dollars to works exceeding a million. Beauty, you see, is not determined by price. Elegance often lies in restraint. A woman in simple, well-chosen adornment can outshine one dripping in expensive stones.

This approach makes our business model unusual. Large brands seek to sell identical pieces to millions of consumers. I consider this attitude a bit disempowering. When you choose clothing, you avoid duplicating your friends' wardrobes. Jewellery deserves the same consideration. My passion is variety, individuality, the match between object and wearer.

My background in hospitality shapes everything we do. In hotels, you learn to anticipate needs, to notice the small gestures that create comfort. We cared for children first — happy children meant contented mothers. We ensured wives found their dresses freshly pressed upon arrival. The husband simply paid the bill, grateful that everyone else was pleased. That instinct for service, for genuine care, now permeates our company. Seventy per cent of our employees are women. I remain surrounded by them, learning constantly.

I have also maintained certain ethical commitments that set us apart. I was among the founders of the Kimberley Process for diamond certification and helped establish the World Diamond Council. We know precisely where our materials originate. In 2014, I addressed Russian officials in Moscow at President Putin's invitation, discussing diamond industry standards. More recently, President Macron invited me to Paris for discussions on laboratory-grown diamonds, a topic that reveals considerable confusion in our industry.

Laboratory diamonds are not inherently problematic. Swarovski built an empire on glass. The issue is transparency. For years, laboratory stones were sold as natural diamonds, deceiving consumers and retailers alike. I argued strenuously in 2014 that the two products must remain distinct, clearly labelled, sold through separate channels or at minimum with absolute clarity about their nature. Mixing them in a single boutique invites disaster. I would never sell laboratory diamonds under the Roberto Coin name, though if my youngest son wished to launch such a line, I would support him — provided it operated as a separate entity with transparent branding.

Perhaps my most recognisable signature is the small ruby concealed inside every piece we create. The inspiration arrived unexpectedly in 1996. We had just completed the Appassionata collection — a technically impossible design that took two years to engineer. Celebrating our success, I returned home in high spirits from our celebration and picked up a book about the pharaohs to help myself drift towards sleep. I read that ancient Egyptian rulers treasured rubies above all other stones because they believed rubies touching skin brought health, fortune, and protection. I thought: why not offer this blessing to all my clients? Since that night, every Roberto Coin piece contains a hidden ruby against the wearer's skin.

The storytelling appeals to me as much as the craft. I spent five years as a judge for the Emmy Awards and Golden Globes, offering opinions on how celebrities dressed for these occasions. I never criticised harshly — merely observed when proportions seemed wrong, when a neckline overwhelmed rather than flattered, when colour clashed with complexion or hair. True elegance is about harmony, about understanding one's own body and choosing accordingly. Contemporary fashion can be whimsical, sometimes even deliberately ugly. Classic style, by contrast, endures. You can wear well-designed pieces for a decade and still appear current.

I have dressed hundreds of Hollywood actresses over the years, using these appearances to raise funds for charity. Philanthropy matters deeply to me. In 2013 or 2014, our company won Italy's first corporate social responsibility award. Last year the United Nations invited me to speak about ethical business practices. I meet kings, queens, extraordinarily wealthy individuals — some brilliant, others less so. Through it all, I try to remain the same person I was at twenty: a lover of life, unstressed, curious, approachable.

One story illustrates how I conduct business. A client from South Africa once contacted us about an important piece purchased in the Caribbean three decades earlier. The jewellery had broken. Technically, it fell outside any warranty period, but warranties matter less to me than relationships. I arranged to collect the piece from her hotel in Italy, brought it to our factory in Vicenza, and discovered the damage had been caused by another jeweller attempting an unauthorised modification. We repaired it perfectly, charged nothing, and I wrote explaining gently that future work should come to us directly. She replied that I was a gentleman and immediately purchased another significant piece. Rules have their place, but people come first.

My approach to family business emerged from observing others' failures. Italy once boasted countless small companies — our greatest economic strength. Many have disappeared because children refused to join their parents' enterprises. Insurance companies now hold conferences examining this transition crisis. When they invited me to speak, I offered a simple diagnosis: the problem lies with parents, not children. I knew a brilliant doctor who came home every evening complaining about hospital bureaucracy, difficult patients, incompetent nurses. Naturally, none of his three children became doctors. I, by contrast, returned from Moscow or New York describing beautiful hotels, fascinating people, extraordinary meals. My children loved what I did. They chose this life because I made it appear joyful, not burdensome.

The principle extends to parenting generally. I tell my staff: always begin by saying yes to a child, then explain why circumstances might require a different answer. But never start with no. Children need time, attention, explanation. They deserve respect for their intelligence. This philosophy applies equally to adults, I suspect.

We have performed well recently — twenty per cent growth last year worldwide. In the Gulf, we operate three boutiques in Dubai, plus locations in Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain, and Riyadh. We are expanding gradually into Iraq, Oman, Morocco, and broader African markets. Am I satisfied? Almost.

I also plan to launch an Italian watch in the near future — Swiss movement, but Italian design. The Swiss excel at precision; Italians understand that beauty sometimes matters more than punctuality.

Looking ahead, I remain committed to remaining independent, family-controlled, and focused on craft rather than scale. We employ cutting-edge technology where it improves quality — laser work creates lighter, more perfect bracelet skeletons than hand-forging alone —but we pair these innovations with traditional hand-finishing. The combination produces pieces that are both technically flawless and unmistakably human.

We spend considerable resources creating memorable experiences for clients. Our Venetian events dress guests in seventeenth-century costume for evenings of music, dining, and spectacle. These gatherings are not marketing exercises but genuine celebrations — moments when commerce dissolves into friendship and shared beauty.
In the end, what I represent is not wealth but something more essential: the conviction that life should be lived fully, that work can be joyful, that relationships matter more than transactions. I have built this company on hospitality, on the radical notion that pleasing others brings its own rewards. The small ruby hidden in each piece symbolises my wish for my clients' wellbeing. It is a blessing, a promise, a reminder that even in luxury, what we truly seek is connection, care, and the feeling of being genuinely valued.