Although a career in fashion came later in life for Eranthi Karamali, it is in her blood. Four years ago, the striking Athenian, who has light eyes and a tumbling chestnut mane, was regularly running yoga retreats in the Cyclades; now the 32-year-old models in Phoebe Philo campaigns and oversees one of Europe’s most significant private Versace archives, alongside her mother, Iro Poniraki, 67, and her 91-year-old grandmother, Eri Kakkava.
The archive – more than 1,000 original and rare pieces spanning Gianni Versace, Versace Couture, Atelier Versace and the diffusion line Istante, dating from 1979 to 1997 – is Kakkava’s life’s work. It is also a vivid testament to Versace’s sumptuous output: his love of beautiful fabrics, colour and print, reflecting the lavishness of the 1980s, and the va-va-voom of the supermodel era. It showcases his masterful cut and the way it sculpts the silhouette – among the highlights, an emerald silk-satin panelled bustier and miniskirt from AW90 – alongside his flair with dense, layered motifs, including a tiered bustle skirt in satin from the SS91 couture collection. Rarer still: the archive contains a hand-painted prototype and bustiers encrusted with beads. Plus some iconic Medusa buttons.
“Gianni Versace loved women,” says Poniraki. “He wanted them to shine and to show off their figures. He wanted women to be women.”
In 1967, Kakkava opened her first boutique, Jade, in the Greek capital’s Kolonaki neighbourhood, bringing the latest imports from Paris – and Milan a decade later – to Athenian high society. She then grew an empire of seven stores, travelling the fashion week circuit and returning with names such as Courrèges, Guy Laroche, Lanvin and Gianfranco Ferré – for whom she ran dedicated monobrand boutiques.
“She was always looking for undiscovered talents before they became famous, and she wanted to cultivate and influence the local customer,” Karamali explains. Kakkava, sitting to her left, is more direct: “I was always searching for something new.”
Undeniably her biggest coup was her relationship with the house of Versace. She worked with the Italian designer from the launch of his namesake label in 1978 until his death in Miami in 1997. For a period, Kakkava fronted his primary retail presence in Athens; and his designs occupied the first two floors of her 350sq m boutique Galeries Jade.
Poniraki, her daughter, grew up in the business, working in the boutiques from the age of 20 and accompanying her mother on buying trips to Paris and Milan. “When you are living it, you cannot understand the importance of that moment – it’s impossible. I was going to all the shows, and all the doors were open, but it was completely normal to me,” she recalls.
Versace always stood out. “He wanted to do something that didn’t exist,” she says. “His shows were often shocking, and always different.” Kakkava, too, was a formidable character. Work was everything and she navigated back-to-back buying appointments on a diet of cigarettes and coffee.
Today, all three women are dressed in vivid silk shirts from the Gianni-era archive – as they are on any given Monday. Over time, they admit, select pieces from a part of the archive that they consider “personal” have made their way into their wardrobes. “The line is blurry,” smiles Karamali, who is wearing a baby-blue silk shirt from a 1994 menswear collection, loose and untucked. “We have all worn these pieces over time. Each takes their own direction with styling.”
Kakkava and Poniraki’s most significant Versace relationship was not with Gianni but with his elder brother Santo, who co-founded the company. It was a long and fruitful collaboration; at one point, Santo offered Kakkava an in-house position in Milan, which she turned down for family reasons. He had great faith in her taste. “When we placed orders, Santo would say, ‘Whatever you order for your boutiques, we will do the same for Milan,’” she recalls. When Versace launched a home collection, it was Kakkava who suggested translating some of the brand’s iconic prints into rugs. “They said, ‘We will make 10, and you can have five,’” says Poniraki. Their archive includes three of these limited-edition hand-knotted rugs.
When Kakkava closed her boutiques after Versace’s death and her cancer diagnosis shortly after, the remaining stock – mostly Versace, but also Gianfranco Ferré, Lacroix, Lanvin, Sonia Rykiel and Thierry Mugler – was moved to a temperature-controlled facility in central Athens. “We had many important customers who would only wear a dress once, and they wanted something that was one-of-a-kind,” says Poniraki. “My mother just couldn’t think of selling these pieces; she knew that no one would make clothes like this again.”
Four years ago, Karamali set about formalising the archive – researching, cataloguing and opening the collection up for exhibition loans and institutional projects, such as the handful on display at the current Gianni Versace retrospective at the Musée Maillol in Paris. “I now have a PhD in Versace,” she jokes about her encyclopedic knowledge. She also opened a small boutique in Athens called MOD Space, which serves as a shop front for the collection, or at least a selection of pieces the family is willing to part with. Last year, Versace art director Leonardo Ciacca discovered their work, resulting in all three generations and their collection featuring in an official Versace campaign for social media. “Suddenly finding myself part of that world was deeply moving,” says Kakkava. “What made it even more meaningful was sharing the experience with my granddaughter.”
For Karamali, the archive is a time capsule not only of Versace’s creative world – the garments and accessories, photography from showroom visits, correspondence and show invitations – but of her grandmother’s life. “I always admired her so much; she has incredible taste – and strength,” she says. “She never stops! Yesterday I went to bed at 2am, and she said, “Are you tired? I was never tired!”