Along with the bright red uniform of the sergeant of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, there is perhaps no other official ensemble as instantly recognizable as that of the Swiss Guard, the elite cadre that has guarded the Pope for more than five centuries.

A striking combination of bold colors and Renaissance-inspired design, its distinctive blue, red and mustard yellow stripes create a vivid contrast. From the uniform’s high-collar jacket and tight-hugging jacket to the puffy sleeves and billowing trousers, everything is tailored with precision.

For almost three decades, Swiss Guard uniforms have been made – every detail overseen – by Ety Cicioni, 52, the Vatican’s chief tailor.

These meticulously crafted uniforms will be on full display as more than 32 million pilgrims are expected to flock to Rome to celebrate the Vatican’s Jubilee Year in 2025. During that time, plenary indulgences – spiritual indulgences that devout Catholics believe free them from temporal punishment – will be granted. for sins – and the Pope, along with the Swiss Guard, will lead dozens of ceremonies and celebrations.

“We’ve barely changed the uniform in over a century,” Cicioni said from his modest Vatican tailoring studio, located behind the Vatican’s main entrance, Porta Sant’Anna, where the Swiss Guard stands still. “The challenge was to keep the uniform the same,” since certain materials, fabrics and sewing techniques were outdated.

“You have to precisely draw each piece and optimize the cut to minimize waste,” Cicioni said.

By the measure of a guardian — and a star

Dressed in a crisp, form-fitting costume, Cicioni glides through the studio with a graceful economy of movement—past coils of brightly colored thread on wall shelves and under high rails where half-finished jackets hang like festive ribbons.

Framed photos of the tailor, his wife and two children with Popes John Paul II, Benedict XVI. and Francis confirm his more than a quarter of a century of service as a tailor in the Vatican. This will be Cioni’s second time serving as tailor during the jubilee year, which comes every 25 years.

Each year, Cioni and seven other tailors in the shop complete 120 uniforms: 60 for winter, 60 for summer. Both are made from premium quality wool originating from Biella, a town in the northern Piedmont region known for producing the finest woolen textiles in the world.

Each uniform is made of 154 pieces of fabric, some of which are hand-stitched.

Cicioni estimates that his atelier has produced more than 3,000 Swiss Guard uniforms. Groups of ten new guards arrive three times a year: in January, June and September. Applicants must be Catholic, unmarried Swiss between the ages of 19 and 30, at least 174 cm (5’8″) tall and have completed military training in Switzerland.

Today’s version of the uniform dates back to 1914, when Swiss Guard commander Jules Repond studied images of ceremonial and military dress from the early 16th century, referencing the styles of the Medici and Della Rovere families who ruled Rome, and designed a uniform that incorporated key elements.

The winter uniform weighs over three kilograms, while the lighter woolen summer version still contributes to profuse sweating during the sultry Roman summers. To protect the cape’s seams from sweat erosion, a nagging problem, Cicioni added a lining—his only significant modification.

But Cioni didn’t just create uniforms for the Vatican: he also lent his expertise to the film business for papal-themed movies: Young Pope and The new Pope TV series, both directed by Paolo Sorrentino; Two popes written by Francesco Meirelles; and The Pope’s exorcist by Julius Avery.

“The only thing I didn’t do was Conclave,” he said, adding with a laugh, “I hope to see him soon and I’ll be keeping a close eye on the costumes.”

Offered a job without a trial

Despite years of sewing for the Holy See, Cicioni says running the Vatican tailoring office was never something he envisioned for himself.

Originally from a small coastal town on the Adriatic coast in the Abruzzo region, Cicioni grew up with a mother who ran a dry cleaner and did small tailoring repairs. With a trade in the family – his three sisters are seamstresses – he went to work at high fashion atelier that was later bought by Gucci.

In the fall of 1997, a local who worked for the Vatican asked him if he would be interested in an interview to replace the Vatican’s chief tailor who was retiring.

“When I got here, they were still using old-fashioned foot pedal sewing machines,” Cicioni said. “I thanked them for the opportunity, but said I was working in a different field and couldn’t possibly be doing my job with such antiquities.”

A month and a half later, they called him from the Vatican and asked him what equipment he needed to do his job. He faxed them a list and after half an hour they called him to offer him a job, without trial.

“I still don’t know why they chose me,” said the devout Catholic. “I can only think that a higher force was at play.”

Cicioni’s wife, Lucia Marcellosi, joined him in the studio after they were married, a few years after he began working at the Vatican. Today, he works alongside Cicioni, cutting and sewing new uniforms for the new Swiss Guard recruits who will arrive in the new year.

Uniforms on the black market

The Vatican guards the uniforms jealously, forbids their resale and allows the Swiss Guards to hang them up only after five years of service. Even then, the guards are required to sign a contract promising that upon death they will either be buried in their uniform or bequeath it to the Swiss Association of Former Swiss Guardsmen.

“They discovered the children or grandchildren of the Swiss Guards trying to sell the uniforms on Ebay,” Cicioni said. “So the Vatican bought the uniforms back and applied the rule.”

Old uniforms that cannot be recycled are cut into small pieces, often as a task assigned to Swiss Guards as punishment for being late for duty.

Cicioni says he believes the Swiss Guard uniform will endure well into the future, but worries the kind of patience needed to train and nurture young tailoring talent at a high level is largely a thing of the past.

“When we bring in a new person, it can take years to figure out if they have what it takes,” he said. “And if they don’t, it’s a huge cost in terms of wasted time and energy. But you have to take the risk if you want this spacecraft to survive.”

His true dream, he says, is to open a tailoring school, passing on the skills, secrets and satisfaction that shaped his and his family’s life to future generations.