Regno delle Due Sicilie, the symbols: Elegant Borbonic and the Cavalluccio Rosso to wear

There are symbols that don’t live only in history books: they live in the signs above palazzo doorways, in ancient coins, in grandparents’ stories and, if you look closely, even in the way a Neapolitan walks with their head held high. To talk about the Regno delle Due Sicilie and its emblems means telling the story of a city that for centuries was a capital, a royal court and a crossroads of the Mediterranean. And it also means understanding why, even today, those symbols end up printed on a T-shirt and become a gentle way of saying «io so’ ‘e c’cca» (Neapolitan for “I’m from here”).

Regno delle Due Sicilie: the symbols and their history

Let’s set things straight, properly. The coat of arms of the Regno delle Due Sicilie didn’t come from nowhere: it’s the result of a dynastic union and a long stratification of heraldry. The Bourbon emblem officially came into force on 21 December 1816, when Ferdinand unified the thrones of Naples and Sicily into a single kingdom. From that moment, the state heraldry gathered together the coats of arms of the various territorial and dynastic entities linked to the Royal House.

The most recognisable detail, the one almost everyone remembers, is the three golden lilies on a blue field: the lily (in French, fleur-de-lis) is the ancient emblem of the House of Bourbon, of French origin, and on its own it tells the story of the European kinship of a ruling house that left its emblems everywhere from Paris to Madrid to Naples. Around that heraldic heart, the other symbols of the lands linked to the crown were arranged. That’s why, when we talk about Bourbon symbols today, we’re not talking about just any little drawing: we’re talking about a grammar of power that has travelled through the centuries.

Anyone who loves this imagery finds its perfect synthesis in the Elegant Borbonic T-shirt: a garment that takes that courtly elegance and brings it onto everyday cotton, without dusty nostalgia and without turning history into a holy picture. It’s the eighteenth century catching the bus, you might say.

Why those symbols still matter

A common mistake is to think that Bourbon symbols are «a thing for monarchists». That’s not the case. They are, above all, the cultural heritage of a capital that for centuries produced music, architecture, science, theatre and cuisine. Wearing an emblem, in this sense, isn’t a political statement: it’s an act of memory and belonging. It’s a way of saying that Naples wasn’t just the «periphery» of something, but a centre, a court, a laboratory for the world.

Il Cavalluccio Rosso: «Dottò, scusate, ma che è successo?» (Doctor, excuse me, but what happened?)

And now we come to the other protagonist, which has nothing to do with heraldry and everything to do with Naples. Our little red horse comes from a scene in Così parlò Bellavista (So Spoke Bellavista, 1984), the film by Luciano De Crescenzo. Piazza Mercato: Salvatore (Riccardo Pazzaglia) tells an ever-growing little crowd how he foiled a mugging without even meaning to, a handkerchief in one hand and, in the other, a little plastic red horse he’d just bought for his grandson. Whoever arrives later asks whoever arrived earlier: «Dottò, scusate, ma che è successo?» (Doctor, excuse me, but what happened?). And the story starts all over again, growing a little bigger each time.

In the book, instead of the little horse, there was a ball. On screen it became a little horse, and ever since, that little horse has been Naples: a city that turns everything into theatre, that stops to listen, that transforms any old event into a story worth telling. Not a state symbol, not a coat of arms: a cheap toy held in one’s hand while telling a tale. And yet it says more about the city than many a coat of arms.

A little horse in Piazza Mercato

When De Crescenzo passed away, in July 2019, Naples bid him farewell by displaying a little red horse right there in Piazza Mercato, where that scene had been filmed. It’s a sign that certain images step out of the screen and become shared heritage, like a proverb or a song. A curious fact for anyone who loves coincidences: the horse is also the oldest civic emblem of Naples, struck on thirteenth-century coins and still found today in the coat of arms of the Metropolitan City. But our little horse doesn’t come from there: it comes from that little crowd, that question, and that smile.

From this scene comes the Il Cavalluccio Rosso unisex T-shirt: a tribute to a film that explained us to ourselves, and to a man who told the story of Naples with more affection than anyone else. You see it, you recognise it, and if you don’t recognise it, there’s a lovely story waiting to be told to you. And we’re proud to say: one of these T-shirts made its way into De Crescenzo’s own hands.

From history to the wardrobe: how to wear these symbols

The funniest part is that these two worlds — Bourbon elegance and De Crescenzo’s irony — don’t clash at all. Quite the opposite: they get along beautifully. The Elegant Borbonic is the «formal» piece, the one that brings together courtly taste and contemporary wit. The Cavalluccio Rosso, on the other hand, is the piece that wins your heart, the one that makes you smile before you’ve even explained it, perfect for anyone who already knows the punchline by heart.

• For those who love storytelling history: Bourbon elegance, with its heraldic references, is ideal for anyone who wants a garment that «tells a story» without shouting it.
• For those who love cinema and the city: the little red horse is a scene every Neapolitan knows, a sign that strikes up a conversation on the street.
• For those who want to give a gift that means something: there’s also a gentle way of sending a piece of Naples to someone far away.

On that last point: you don’t always need a T-shirt. Sometimes a handwritten thought is enough. That’s why there’s the Cavalluccio Rosso greeting card: small, but holding within it the very same scene we’ve just told you about. It’s the Neapolitan way of saying «I’m thinking of you», complete with its own little crowd.

A note of respect

We tell these symbols’ stories with affection, but also with honesty. Behind a golden lily lies centuries of real history, made of kings and ordinary people, of splendour and of wounds; behind a little plastic horse there’s a man who taught Naples to look at itself with tenderness. Wearing them doesn’t mean rewriting the past or turning the city into a caricature: it means recognising them, treasuring them, and smiling about them with that irony which, in Naples, is a form of intelligence.

If you’ve found a little of yourself in these stories, let them walk alongside you: choose the Elegant Borbonic or Il Cavalluccio Rosso, or send a thought to someone you love with the greeting card. Because the lilies of the Due Sicilie and De Crescenzo’s little horse aren’t meant to be kept behind glass: they’re worn, given as gifts, and carried around the world, with heads held high and hearts beating in dialect.