Sunday, 21 September 2014

MFW

Top looks from Milan Fashion Week:


Alberta Ferretti

 Aquilano.Rimondi

 Blumarine

Bottega Veneta

 Dsquared2

 Fendi

 Gabriele Colangelo

 Giamba

 Marni

 No. 21

 Prada

Honourable mention this time around goes to Jil Sander: absolutely perfect collection. And my usual favourite, No. 21, was super cool as well.

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

LFW

Sooooo, here are the (IMHO) best looks from London Fashion Week:

Burberry Prorsum

 Christopher Kane

 Jonathan Saunders

 Markus Lupfer

 Mary Katrantzou

 Paul Smith

Peter Pilotto 

 Preen by Thornton Bregazzi

 Roksanda

 Topshop Unique

 Vivienne Westwood Red Label

Honourable mention this time goes to McQ Alexander McQueen: just like Elizabeth and James, I thought their collection was absolutely flawless. And to be honest, picking a single favourite look from Topshop Unique was quite difficult, too.

Saturday, 13 September 2014

NYFW

Here are my favourite looks from New York Fashion Week:

3.1 Phillip Lim

 Chloë Sevigny for Opening Ceremony

 Jason Wu

 Lacoste

 Marc by Marc Jacobs

 Misha Nonoo

 MM6 Maison Martin Margiela

 Opening Ceremony

 Proenza Schouler

The Row

Alexander Wang

Honourable mention to Elizabeth and James, because I liked every single look and literally couldn't pick one since that collection is so perfect (The Row was quite perfect too, honestly).


Tuesday, 9 September 2014

Paris was always worth it

I am currently sitting on the bed that has welcomed me every night for the past week in my Parisian hostel.

This week has been... intense.

Last Wednesday I woke up super early (after an obviously sleepless night) to catch a train to Bologna, where my flight was leaving from. My destination was Paris, and while it was so good to go from rainy Italy to sunny France, the shock of going back to that country, and to Paris in particular, was big.

I had to remember how to articulate thoughts in French and, most of all, pretend that I hadn't just left my family and friends without knowing when or where I would see them next.

On my first day I didn't do much, apart from admiring the beauty of a city I hadn't seen for over two years: the Invalides, with all the Parisian people sitting in the sun, the Champs-Elysées, with their crowds that reminded me so much of Oxford Street, the Arc the Triomphe at sunset... I had forgotten just how pretty Paris is.

Staying at a hostel allowed me to meet a lot of different people: some traveling, some on holiday... some a bit lost, just like me.

Take Liv, for example: I met this Canadian girl on my (I think) 3rd day and when I asked her what she was doing in Paris, this was her answer: "I packed that bag and just left."

This amazed me: not only because Liv seemed to be in the exact same situation as me, but because she was totally okay with it. That's the funny thing about life: you think you're the only one who's going through a certain situation, but you're not. There are so many people who are living similar lives and meeting them really opens your eyes.

As for my trip, as soon as I arrived at the hostel I phoned a shop to arrange a job interview, and while the girl told me they had already found someone else for that position, she suggested that I still went to see her and have a chat. Funnily enough, I didn't feel like a failure because of that: I still had hope (and I still have it now) that I would get a job eventually, and most of all, even if I didn't, at least I tried (and spent a week in Paris, which is not too bad).

The time I spent in Paris gave me the opportunity to do everything I had wanted to do while writing my dissertation, as in: go to all the Hemingway places! and I did it. When I arrived in St. Michel, just near Notre-Dame, and saw the "Shakespeare and Company" sign, my heart skipped a beat. There it was. The first place that Ernest Hemingway visited when he arrived in Paris, the place he and the other American writers that lived here in the 1920s used to go to so often, it was there. I entered the bookshop and it was so tiny and crowded, but also cosy and the lady at the counter was so nice. When she saw that I had picked "A Moveable Feast", she said: "This book is the reason you're here, isn't it?" and I almost cried. I love Hemingway, I love Paris, I love literature, and there I was, in an almost sacred place for me, talking to someone who understood me!

After this I went to rue Cardinal Lemoine (which turned out to be UP A FUCKING HILL) to see where Hemingway lived. I must admit I was a bit disappointed: the building is very ugly and now there is just a little plaque saying that Hem lived there, but it was still nice to go. The area is full of cafés and other historical places, like the flat where Verlaine died.

A neighborhood that I really loved is around the Boulevard Saint-Germain. It's full of cool shops, brasseries and cafés, like Les Deux Magots and the Café de Flore. I am too poor to go to those place, but one day maybe I will (and pretend I am an intellectual like Simone de Beauvoir or Jean Paul Sartre, haha).

The biggest disappointment for me was probably the Musée d'Orsay: I had such high expectations about it, but it wasn't that great. I loved some impressionist paintings, but that was it. I also didn't really understand the way it's organized, but oh well.

On the other hand, I absolutely adored the Musée de l'Orangerie: the Nymphéas in particular. Monet painted the little lake of his house in Giverny during different times of the day and different weather conditions (over the course of about 20 years) and then created a series of paintings that were put in an oval room at the Orangerie in Paris. He wanted everyone who entered the room to find peace and quiet in it, and that's exactly what happened to me, despite there being a lot of people. I seriously think those paintings are the most perfectly beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life. I can't even describe it in words: you just stand in front of them and get lost, forgetting completely about the world around you. It's magic.

A very big shoutout needs to go to my friend Laura, who lives in Paris. I met her at uni and she moved here after graduating. She told me about her situation, and how she's kind of struggling too, but she knows she wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world. I wish I was so sure about my future, too! Today I said goodbye to her, and her words struck me (I'm going to write them in Italian, because I don't think English would do them justice: "Tu continua a cercare, ma cerca bene, mi raccomando." I love her.

The Louvre was just as beautiful as I remembered it, and I also kinda fell in love with the italian guy who gave me the audio guide (AHEM).

But the first moment of pure joy I felt, the first huge silly smile on my face, I got it on Sunday night: for some reason, I hadn't gone out after dinner before then, because I always felt so tired. But then I realized how soon I was going to leave, so I sucked it up and went out. Best decision ever. I saw the Eiffel Tower at sunset, with the lights on. I know it sounds stupid and cheesy, but it made me so happy! All those people on the Champ de Mars, looking at the Tower like it was some sort of beautiful show. And the dancers at the Trocadéro, and the American couple that asked me to take a picture of them... After that, I went to the Champs-Elysées to take a few pictures and there, too, the atmosphere and the lights were amazing. On a more superficial note, I discovered a new MAC lipstick I might buy: it's called "Good Kisser" or something, and it's great. Oh, and I also bought (finally!) the latest Black Keys album at the Fnac.

On the following day, I woke up quite early to get to the Jardin du Luxembourg to get a picture in front of the gate that's on the cover of Lonerism by Tame Impala. Little did I know that the park would become my absolute favourite Parisian place!

Oh my god, seriously, it is incredibly beautiful. Just like the Orangerie, it made me feel so peaceful. I can only remember another time when I felt like this, when I felt like I was really living and that I was in the right place, and that was last March, on a sunny day walking down Southbank in London. I don't think I will ever forget the 8th of September (yesterday): the perfect temperature, the clear sky, the flowers and the sun on my face... just perfect. I didn't even want to leave the green chair I was sitting on because I didn't want that moment to end.

Today, my last day, was spent mainly around the Marais (another area I decided I love, especially the architecture), and Montmartre. I didn't like Montmartre that much, but I had a crêpe with Nutella over there, which was nice. If there's one thing that I'll miss, it's the boulangeries and patisseries. Oh, man.

So here I am. Broke (except for the money I'll need tomorrow), maybe not shaking and crying (yet) but full. Yes, full.

I am so, so happy I took this trip, by myself, without knowing what would be waiting for me on the other side. I'm so happy I did this on my own, I'm so happy I met so many amazing people, from Christina, to Marie, to the random strangers on the street.

I still don't know what's going to happen to me, my future is still pretty uncertain, and tomorrow I'm gonna hop on a plane back to shitaly, but one thing's for sure: I needed to do this in this moment in my life. And I did it. I was here. I lived.

 « Etre parisien, ce n’est pas être né à Paris, c’est y renaître »

Monday, 1 September 2014

I've heard it takes some time to get it right



Funny: last September I was super stressed about my uni finals and I remember the only thing that kept me going was the song "Strong" by London Grammar. I would listen to it every morning, and I don't know why or how, but it just helped me start the day in the right way.

Today is the 1st of September, and I can't help but think about how I am still as stressed as I was last year, but for a completely different reason: I don't know what to do with my life.
There, I said it.
I have spent the past 4 months back at my parents' place, thinking a lot, realizing that I have changed and so did my childhood friends, and crying more than I should.
Then, last week, after some more thinking and procrastinating and delaying, I took a decision: I am leaving. Again.

This summer made me understand that I have spent too much time being too career-oriented, while forgetting the most important thing: to live.

So I am leaving. I am going to Paris, a destination I have been dreaming about for a long, long time. Especially since last September, while I was about to start working on my dissertation that is, basically, a love letter to that beautiful city.

I feel like this is the perfect time to do it: I am sick of home, sick of summer, sick of days that are all the same. For the first time in my life, I have no plans. There is no job/uni/body waiting for me on the other side, this time it's just me. For me.

So with another September comes another London Grammar song to help me pack my suitcase: "Wasting My Young Years". There are so many songs out there whose only aim is to cheer you up, and I could have chosen one of those... but no. This song is perfect right now because I am not gonna lie, I am scared as hell.

As always, doubts and questions and fears are killing me and pulling me back, but then I think: what's the option? Seriously, what will I do if I don't go? Will I keep on wasting my years like I've done so far? Will I keep on chasing old ideas?

No. I won't. This is why I am leaving. This is why I am taking a risk. And who knows, maybe I'll be back in a week, shaking and crying and broke, but I want to try. Just this one time.