Don't let your starting point define who you are or who you want to become. Today on MITET there is a woman who in the Italian business landscape is still an exception. Cristina Scocchia is one of the very few women to have been CEO three times—first of L'Oreal Italy, then Kiko Milano, and today of Illycaffè. But this is not the story of an easy career. She was born in a small Ligurian town and built everything from scratch with determination, study, and almost fierce discipline. She worked 16 years at Procter & Gamble, leading international operations for a brand present in over 70 countries, before returning to Italy to face some of the most complex managerial challenges in our market.
I like the adrenaline of bringing the ship out of the storm. She decided to tell this story in her book 'Il coraggio di provarci', where she retraces her path from simple origins to the top of large companies and reflects on what it really means to have ambition, especially when there aren't many models to look at.
It's important to dream, to believe in the beauty of your dream, but it's even more important to have great courage, great commitment, and great discipline. Discipline is the bridge between the dream and reality. We talk about how this incredible career was built, the hunger to succeed, ambition, sacrifices, leadership, meritocracy, difficult decisions, and what should really change so that more women can reach the top without being exceptions, but also about the expectations we women place on ourselves. We must stop pretending to be perfect in every role. We cannot be perfect in all roles, all the time.
I'm Ines Macula, this is Made, and this is the story of Cristina Scocchia.
Cristina Scocchia, welcome to MED. I'm truly honored to have you here and to let our listeners discover your beautiful story.
Thank you so much, thank you for the invitation.
Your story begins in Quiliano, a small town in Liguria—not the obvious starting point for a career that would take you to the top of the Italian corporate world. Did you ever feel limited by your starting point?
I was born in a small village called Coldi Rodi, then about 2,000 people, on a hill near Sanremo. I remember it as a corner of the ancient world: we had elementary school, middle school, two grocery stores, and a newsstand. On weekends, the most exciting thing was going to the grocery store or the newsstand. At first I felt great, surrounded by family and friends. But when I started high school in Sanremo, I discovered differences. I had to take the bus at 7 AM, and there were people with more economic possibilities, who had studied languages or traveled abroad. I began to feel that my small village was too tight for me.
It's interesting how you realize what you don't have only when you meet people who have more. In that period, you were a very ambitious girl, and you had a moment when you feared you couldn't get where you wanted with your own strength. I'd like to go back to the advice your father gave you, which opens your book—can you tell us about it?
When I was in Coldi Rodi, people often asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I would say with sincerity: 'I want to be CEO.' In that context—a small provincial town, from a normal family, and being a woman—it was unusual. But I had this dream. I liked the idea of becoming the conductor of the orchestra, the person who helps build an organization and guide it. When I went to high school, I faced different realities. I told my dad, 'I don't want to be rich, but we're not even normal—we can't afford to send me to England or go on vacation.' One day he sat me down in front of the sea and said: 'Some are born on top of the hill, some arrive by helicopter, some by car with a driver. You weren't born there and won't get there that way. You can complain, but it won't get you anywhere. If you really want to get there, hold your breath, stop complaining, and use all your energy to run. Run today, run tomorrow, maybe you'll make it. And the most beautiful thing he said was: It's not important if you make it; it's important that you find the courage to try. Because in life, it's not important to succeed; it's important to find the courage to step into the arena and give your best with passion, determination, courage, resilience. Then if you make it, great; if not, you can leave the arena with your head held high because you tried.' That teaching later translated into: Don't let your starting point define who you are or who you want to become.
That's beautiful. I'm moved hearing it. With such a big dream, some parents might say 'Be realistic,' but he gave you this drive to try without expectations of success but without regrets.
I was very lucky to have such a father. He always said, 'I teach technical education—I know it's not an important subject. But I don't care; I don't want to teach technical education, I want to help kids become the best version of themselves.' What greater fortune can you have? I used to prod him about not having an important surname or wealth, but I wouldn't change him for any father in the world. He truly helped so many kids find their best version.
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So we arrive at university. Your parents had something different planned for you, but you realized that Bocconi was the best solution. How did you convince them? There was a war to go to Bocconi.
Family tradition: all my cousins went to our aunt Gabri in Turin after high school—no rent, family oversight. But I strongly felt Bocconi could open more doors. I told my dad: 'I feel like a poker player—I can turn every card into an ace, but I only have three cards. I need a fourth: Bocconi.' For the first time he didn't support me; he said Milan is too big, dangerous, and expensive. I gave him the silent treatment for months. At dinner, I would say to my mom, 'Pass the salt to your husband.' It was ridiculous. But I held on because I truly felt that was my opportunity. One night I was in my attic room and decided I wanted to go to Milan no matter what, but I missed hugging my dad. I went downstairs to make peace, and at the same moment he was coming up because he also felt it was time to turn the page. We met halfway on the stairs, couldn't speak, hugged, and cried. He said, 'You really have a hard head. I've been angry these months, but I'm proud of you. If you face life with this determination, you might realize your dreams.' Then he told me the savings: 'It will last about two years, maybe three. The rest you have to find yourself.'
I went to Milan, to Bocconi, and during the fateful Career Day, my life changed forever because I discovered Procter & Gamble.
Procter & Gamble, for those who don't know, is a huge American multinational with many consumer goods brands like Pantene, Tampax, Gillette, Swiffer. Can you take us back to that moment when the spark ignited?
It was great luck. I didn't even want to go because I wanted to study—I felt responsible for how much my parents were sacrificing to keep me in Milan. But my friend Sonia said, 'Come on, Cristina, don't be a nerd; they're American, they'll say interesting things.' I went reluctantly, thinking they'd tell us American nonsense. Instead, they talked about talent, merit, social elevator, investing in talent regardless of background. I thought, 'They're talking to me!' I ran out, wrote my CV—at 20 you put things like Boy Scouts and Red Cross volunteer—and sent it. They didn't reply for a year. When they finally contacted me for a written test, I concentrated so much that I could have had an arm cut off and not felt it. I passed and was called for an interview in Rome. The interviewer was an American woman. I couldn't understand her English. She said, 'Then you are cheating?' I replied, 'Maybe I am, but if you tell me what 'cheating' means, I can answer.' She turned purple and said I was making fun of her. I said, 'Look at my written test—it went very well. Decide based on that.' She gave me a chance and sent me to her Italian boss. He asked, 'Where do you see yourself in 15 years?' I looked him straight in the eye and said, 'CEO.' He was shocked. I said, 'You told me not to lie. I want that.' He liked it, and that's how my 16-year career at P&G began.
But you weren't graduated yet, right? You made a pact with your boss: you'd pass all exams in three years while working. How did you survive? How important is hunger and determination in building a career like yours?
They matter enormously. I remember the first three months—everyone said to just impress them, invest only in P&G. But I said, 'I have to show I can study and work because now that I'm on the train, I don't want to get off.' Then my boss quit days before the most important budget meeting with the CEO. Everyone panicked. I raised my hand and said I'd present it. They said, 'But you don't even speak English!' I said, 'You've already resigned—what do you have to lose? Give me this chance.' It wasn't audacity; it was hunger and desire for redemption—I grabbed the opportunity with both hands. I prepared the presentation, wrote the speech in English, anticipated all questions and answers, bribed my English-speaking colleague to translate, and memorized everything. The meeting went well. CEO Tony Belloni said I had potential and made a pact: he'd hire me as a graduate with salary and responsibilities, but if I didn't graduate in three years without taking any vacation or leave, I'd resign. I worked from 9 AM to 10 PM, then studied from 11 PM to 3-4 AM for three years. I also did volunteer ambulance service on Saturday nights because I felt grateful. My friend asked, 'Where's the fortune? You work all day, study all night, end up in the hospital sometimes.' But I felt deep gratitude for my family and for 'Mother P&G' for giving me the opportunity to realize my dreams.
That's wonderful. When you don't know the details of what people went through, you realize that those who achieve success from the bottom of the hill have to make huge sacrifices—and not everyone is willing.
It's important to dream, but even more important to have great courage, commitment, and discipline. Discipline is the bridge between the dream and reality. Career and life are not a 100-meter sprint; they are a series of sprints, a marathon. There are moments when everything seems easy, but then the climb comes, the breathlessness, the cramps—that's when you need discipline. And then the moment when you fall. In every marathon, you fall and scrape your knees. Then you have to look inside, rediscover the beauty of your dreams, and get back up and run again. That's what careers are made of.
That's why we like this format—only the glamour is seen from outside, and we discover step by step what it took to get there.
What did you think a CEO did before becoming one, versus the reality?
Fortunately, not totally different—that would have been a scam after all those years. I imagined the CEO as the conductor of the orchestra, choosing the score and helping the team play it in the best way. I discovered that's exactly what it is: the most important role is deciding where to take the company in five years and building a strong, compact, motivated team that rows in the same direction. So no scam—the doll was as I had imagined it.
Wonderful. So after 16 years at P&G, you were offered your first CEO role at L'Oreal Italy. Then after about four years, you became global CEO of Kiko Milano, and now CEO of Illycaffè. All these companies needed a turnaround. What is your magic powder?
Everything happened by chance, always thanks to Mother P&G. After graduating at the last minute, I wanted a promotion to go to Geneva to work on beauty. My boss said, 'We're not a Kinder egg with three surprises—you want promotion, we promote you; you want Geneva, we send you; but you'll work on adhesive for dentures.' Four years on that unsexy, declining business taught me that I like the adrenaline of bringing the ship out of the storm. When the sea is rough, the captain has more freedom to make a difference. That's why L'Oreal called me to turn around their Italian subsidiary, and we succeeded. Then Kiko called me—first time as global CEO. That was a real turnaround: we closed 14% of stores worldwide, 137 stores, and I had to lay people off for the first time. I'll never forget telling Laura she would lose her job. It was necessary to save the other 7,000 jobs. After two years of blood and tears, we turned around and started growing. On February 14, 2020, I told the board we were done. Three weeks later, COVID hit. We were in the Bergamo area, hit hard, all 1,000 stores closed. I realized then what leadership truly means—it's not power but responsibility. Before it was mandatory, I called the president and said we must close stores. He agreed. Then I spent three days communicating to 7,000 people that we would go into furlough. I promised that I would not leave anyone behind. Then I realized our e-commerce suppliers in Bergamo were risking their lives without protective equipment. I couldn't reconcile economic value with ethics. I proposed closing e-commerce too. In a tense board meeting, the president said, 'I don't say if I agree or not. I chose Scocchia as captain, and during the storm the captain is not questioned.' We closed for four weeks to distribute PPE. That was the most beautiful, important decision of my career—it repaid all efforts because I put people first.
That's not trivial. Many people—
—are not your employees. It's a matter of principles.
Exactly. And that's why we admire leaders like you. Thank you so much for your time, Cristina.
Thank you. It was a pleasure.
Watch out and we move forward for revenue, so it's not an obvious choice that you made.