This is our story.
We don’t expect you to believe it, at least not entirely. But we ask that you to try and imagine a late nineteenth century boy. In this time, if you didn’t have the possibility to study, you had to work. In a factory.
The peculiarity of this story, which begins as so many other do, is in the surname which holds within itself an inevitable destiny. The child of whom we speak is called Camillo Gomitoli (literally ball of yarn) and he possessed a fierce passion for yarn. Because of this, Signor Gomitoli had been more than happy to show him the old textile factory where he worked and periodically bring him on excursions to the spinning mills, where he enjoyed himself as if they had brought him to Disneyland (which, obviously, did not exist at the time).
The experience Camillo gained during the hours spent standing stock still, holding his arms at a right angle so his mother (who was very fond of do-it-yourself and knitting) – could have a valid support to wind a skein, allowed him to develop a physique incredibly suited for the factory machinery, to which he took like a duck takes to water.
In any case, Camillo grows up and starts a family. His passion for yarn has advanced to such a degree that his children find themselves recorded at the registry office with undeniably peculiar names: Pura Lana (Pure Wool) Gomitoli, Uncinetto (Crochet) Gomitoli, Maglia (Knitting) Gomitoli, Crochet Gomitoli, Dritto (Front) and Rovescio (Back) Gomitoli (twins), without forgetting the last arrival, the second protagonist of our story, Gomitolo Gomitoli, born during a time when the head of the family was experiencing an imaginative dry spell.
It goes without saying that in Casa Gomitoli there are certain things of which you cannot be unaware. For example, Camillo expects that knitting be the first word spoken by every new arrival and he involves the children in systematic parlour games, like recognizing knitting needles by diameter while blindfolded. Not everyone is as enthusiastic about this Gomitoliarchy, particularly young Gomitolo who, despite his fondness for natural yarns, can’t abide orders of any kind. Becoming of age, he leaves for the Orient, where – reportedly – exist goats with incredibly fine hair, some of which are supposedly even born wearing perfectly knitted scarves and turtleneck sweaters.
However, distance does not always generate entirely truthful accounts. In actuality, when he arrives in China, Gomitoli encounters decidedly normal goats. This bothers him immensely, one might say it even devastates him. But, just as he’s contemplating a mournful homecoming with his tail between his legs, he discovers that, hidden beneath the kemp of these lazy goats, there is another type of fiber, a fine, warm, light and soft padding. In other words, the Chinese had cashmere, but did not know how to use it.
Strengthened by this discovery, he returns to Italy and applies himself to inventing new techniques and machinery able to produce at home – giving life to a strictly and spontaneous made in Italy, even before the term acquired the fundamental connotation which it holds today – what is perhaps the most beautiful cashmere in the world. He also devotes himself to the search of any other fibers which will aid in the production of even more exquisite natural Camel, wool, cotton, silk and angora yarns: everything which can be ideally spun, in practice ends up on the Gomitoli machinery.
But our grandfather – just so, now it can be told – was a perfectionist. And he couldn’t make up his mind about selling those hand-made yarns, jealous as he was about his discoveries.
We, instead, would like to share with you the results of his unconditional love and have decided to launch Gomitoli’s e-commerce store, convinced that this is the best way to convey the fruit of a family passion wholly made in Italy.