PROFILE – As Gifi prepares to shut down 11 stores and cut 300 jobs, its founder, kept at bay from management by creditors, struggles to let go. Self-taught, Philippe Ginestet built an empire in his own likeness: vibrant, extravagant, joyful. Yet, surging inflation has driven his company into a crisis.
Philippe Ginestet
Portrait Philippe Ginestet, photographed at his property in Lot, on March 11, 2025, by Bruno Delessard for Challenges.
Bruno Delessard for Challenges
In the charming village of Pujols (Lot-et-Garonne), a monumental gate adorned with five massive golden letters reads “Miotu”, “my you” in Italian, a testament from the estate’s owner, Philippe Ginestet, 70, to his wife Brigitte, who hails from the Peninsula. Beyond it lies an expansive estate dotted with colorful buildings, cherub statues, and Californian palm trees. Welcome to the lair of the founder of the bazaar chain Gifi, ranked as the 170th wealthiest professional in France according to Challenges.
“This place was designed to host lots of people,” boasts the king of discount, proudly sporting his orange Lacoste polo with his gravelly South-Western accent. “The idea was to welcome Gifi collaborators here when I could no longer move around.” The businessman lowers his eyes. Sighs: “That dream was short-lived.”
Since January, Philippe Ginestet no longer leads the brand he founded, under pressure from creditor banks. To settle his debts, they have taken 40% of the company’s capital. The consulting firm AlixPartners and former Auchan France executive Philippe Brochard are temporarily in charge to revive the sinking ship, which boasts 630 stores and 6,000 employees. On April 4th, the elimination of 300 jobs and the closure of 11 stores were announced. For the founder, the impact is profound. “The day after I left Gifi’s management, I arrived at my office,” he recalls. “The card reader cables had been yanked out so I couldn’t enter.”
Over Forty Years at the Helm
Philippe Ginestet has lost the keys to his kingdom. He, the boss – megalomaniac to some, paternalistic to others – who invited his employees to ski at his chalet in Megève. He, who just a few months ago personally selected the plastic garden chairs sold at his outlets, the costumes for 8 euros, and the scented candles. He, the man whose first syllables of his name and surname formed the acronym Gifi. It was in an email sent at half past midnight on the night of January 17th that Ginestet told his employees: “Gifi is both my life and my story! […] I am stepping down as president of the company to take over as chairman of the supervisory board.”
After more than forty years in control, the pioneer of discount retailing in France completely missed the battle against inflation. Flashback to 2021, when prices began to soar. Philippe Ginestet emerged weakened from a battle with cancer, while his stores gradually reopened after the shock of the lockdowns. “I slashed prices by half to clear out the inventory,” he remembers. The operation was a success, but the brand was no longer as competitive as its rivals. The crushing machine that is the Dutch bargain specialist Action surpassed 4 billion euros in sales in France. The French chain, meanwhile, plateaued at around 1.3 billion. Gifi became outdated.
Poorly Surrounded
Stubborn, Philippe Ginestet, who had handed operational reins to his son Alexandre, failed to see his brand’s drift, poorly surrounded. A member of Gifi’s management explains: “Around Philippe Ginestet, nothing was based on competence, everything was based on allegiance. The executives in place were not the most talented, but the most subservient.” As for his son, he was “not up to the task,” according to a former advisor.
The brand experienced the worst possible evolution for a discounter: gentrification. A fatal error especially during inflation. Personally, Philippe Ginestet “lived a flamboyant life, with his private jet, his yacht, his chalet,” a witness to the debacle criticizes. “Everyone knew it was going to end like this, an exasperated former executive bursts out. “We chose a supplier because he was a friend of Ginestet.” The flair of the self-made man, which had been the secret to his success, turned into a disaster.
To avoid bankruptcy or a piecemeal sale, the founder took full control again in October 2023, working night and day to save the brand. A major computer system failure pushed Gifi into a nightmare. “We had no visibility on the inventory,at a time when we needed to be strong,” laments Michel Djavadi, head of procurement in Asia. The axe fell. The bankers ousted Philippe Ginestet from the presidency and, in exchange, agreed to lend 100 million euros to his holding company GPG, which would sell off a portion of his real estate empire to repay the advance. The septuagenarian avoided the worst: Gifi was not sold; the headquarters remained in Villeneuve-sur-Lot.
“What He Loves, Is to Be Loved”
Now, Philippe Ginestet roams the halls of his palace, emptied of its court, accompanied by his wife Brigitte and his dog Jobi. The trophies of the boss have become painful relics. Like the golden statue at the back of his garden, where the director is depicted with his wife, who, moved, covers her mouth with her hand. “It was a gift from collaborators,” he says. “It was inspired by a photo taken at our very last seminar.”
The seminars of Philippe Ginestet, these were the grand festive stays he organized, often at his chalet in Megève. Fabrice Brun, CFDT delegate, remembers these good times: “At the end, there was a speech, and everyone received a personalized note.” The president of the business lobby Ethic, Sophie de Menthon, praises: “He has a love for his staff like I’ve never seen!”
Others see these parties as the climax of an egotistical system of an extraordinary boss. “He reminded me of Louis XIV and his court, sighs a store manager. “At 2 PM, you have to be on the ski slope. At 7 PM, you start with the costume party. Up at 7 AM. If you disagree, they tell you: ‘That’s how it is.'” The Gifi family, you either love it or leave it. Poker tournaments (his passion) in Las Vegas, a cruise for 900 people in the Mediterranean… In these grand potlatches, Philippe Ginestet – not particularly keen on social dialogue – stages himself as a benefactor, applauded by his teams. “What he loves, is being loved by his employees,” concludes Sophie de Menthon.
Dizzying Ascent
To understand the Ginestet system, one must go back far, very far. To his childhood, in his beloved Lot-et-Garonne, where his two parents, livestock dealers, taught him a tough life, where love was taboo. Since then, the boss has sworn only by this word. Moreover, a massive red sculpture, “Love”, stands in his garden.
Feeling claustrophobic, he left at 18 for Normandy, then Paris. Without money or work, he slept on the streets of the capital. “It’s the best thing that can happen to a young person,” he asserts. “I had the desire to work, to fend for myself.” Sweeper, TV antenna installer… The young man went from job to job until he became a salesman for Electrolux. That’s where he found his place. “I eventually became their top salesman,” the storyteller enthuses, his eyes still sparkling. He went into business for himself, selling sweaters, moving from market to market with his caravan. Then he returned to his native region and opened his first Gifi store in 1981. “In 1988, I decided to source my products directly from Asia, and I left without speaking a word of Chinese,” he boasts.
Less than a decade later, Apax Partners and a Lazard fund acquired 55% of the store’s capital before taking it public, having doubled its value to nearly 1 billion euros. “The first time I met a financier, I wanted to hide under the desk,” Ginestet laughs. Ebitda, ROC, Capex: the instinctive merchant learned this barbaric vocabulary on the fly.
In 2010, he bought back all the shares of the company and delisted it. His fortune was assured. He developed the holding company GPG, with which he invested in hotels, casinos, startups, and then bought Tati at the commercial court’s bar. At the peak of this dizzying ascent, in 2015, Philippe Ginestet acquired the Stelsia, a castle in Villeneuve-sur-Lot that he painted pink, blue, and red. All in excess, in his image.
“Stop Talking to Me About Firing”
Now, the 4-star hotel is for sale. As is the chalet in Megève. The empire crumbles, the founder’s dream as well. “I no longer respond to messages from the brand’s collaborators,” laments the businessman. “They keep me away from Gifi and I play along, even though I wake up in a cold sweat at night thinking that we might be losing all of the brand’s strengths.”
Suddenly, anger erupts. “The new management wants to sell fruits and vegetables, wants to change Gifi’s logo, its slogan… Damn, stop talking to me about firing, stop talking to me about cutting costs!” Philippe Ginestet exhales. Collects himself, he who – despite his jovial appearance – is described by those close to him as a great introvert. “My son and I don’t see each other anymore. He doesn’t know what I’ve been through. He thinks I might be the reason he had to leave Gifi, even though it was imposed on me.” The self-taught man has hired a headhunter to find Gifi’s future leader. But the banks will have the final say.
What future for the former boss, alone in his Miotu estate? The medium of this great esoteric, Sofia Kuruni, has her idea: “He will no longer be in business, but will be a more spiritual man. He could give lectures.” His friend TV host Benjamin Castaldi adds: “Maybe it’s a bad thing for a good. He’s someone who never took vacations.” In detox from his brand, Philippe Ginestet has removed from his house all the trophies that might remind him too much of it. To face the biggest challenge of his life: life without Gifi.
