Inside Tuxedo Society, the Old-Money Fantasy Camp Where Would-Be-Aristocrats Pay to Cosplay
Morano is Tuxedo Society’s only real link to old money—his father is an Italian count and his mother a German baroness. He was taught at an early age how to dine properly— sitting upright with both hands (but never your elbows) visible on the table—and which suits to wear on Christmas.
“I don’t think I’m better [than anyone] because I have a longer name,” Morano says. “My parents’ generation were the last to get money. So we all had to work. My cousin, the Prince of Hanover, was a dishwasher when he was studying.” For Morano, old money wasn’t about wealth—it was about taste. Together, the trio—Bonini, the shrewd numbers man; Capotosti, the events visionary; and Morano, the social connector with a massive online following—set out to bottle that ethos, and sell it.
Since launching, Tuxedo Society has hosted events in Venice, St. Moritz, Tuscany, Lake Como, and Florence. Prices vary depending on the destination, season, length, and activities—some running well into the five figures. Their St. Moritz trip, a frosty four-day excursion timed to the annual I.C.E. (International Concours of Elegance) automotive event—where vintage prestige cars race across the frozen surface of Lake St. Moritz—ranged from 10,000 to 15,000 euros. Members were choppered in by helicopter convoy and served a Champagne-and-caviar picnic in the snow.
Beyond the big-ticket trips, Tuxedo also hosts intimate dinners and nights out across Europe for local members, priced around 1,000 euros. “All of our members are wealthy and are used to the luxury-travel lifestyle in five-star hotels with fancy dinners,” Bonini says. “But what we’re able to create in terms of ‘the vibe,’ no one has experienced before.”
Ask anyone in Tuxedo and they’ll point to the October 2024 retreat—five days at the Villa Sola Cabiati, a neoclassical palazzo in Lake Como—as the most unforgettable. The 16th-century villa, with its Venetian frescoes and Murano chandeliers, has hosted generations of notable guests, from Napoleon Bonaparte to Taylor Swift. “It felt like stepping into a dream,” Capotosti says. “The sound of the piano from the salon. The lake in front. People laughing, dancing, and elegant like in Fitzgerald’s tales.”
Tuxedo Society member Ciel Chen, a 28-year-old real estate investor from Hong Kong, says everything was curated from the moment he touched down. “They picked us up in branded vans. At our villa, all the rooms had little gift boxes that said Tuxedo Society, with a notebook and perfume. There were so many small little touches,” he says.
At night, there were fireworks, DJ sets, and swimming in the villa’s infinity pool. “People might call it artificial or staged,” says Alex Maroulakis, a 35-year-old brand consultant from Luxembourg who runs the lifestyle account @thegoodlife. “But I liken it to scenes from a beautifully directed film. And we get to be the protagonists.”
Content creation is baked into the Tuxedo brand, with videographers and photographers hired to capture every event. “It’s a tool, but not the goal,” Capotosti emphasizes. For members, the social boost is a clear perk—Morano’s cousin attended just two events and gained 20,000 followers from the photos alone.
