"borrow from the boys": the italian way

At Pitti Immagine 91, in Florence, is all about the pants, big pants The New York Times says in an exhilarating (well, at least to me) article that describes how Pitti Immagine is all about fashion.

Styles, colors, fabrics, a delight and endless array of men and women dressed to the nines that become a pleasure to all the senses, the venues of the events nothing short of Renaissance buildings or green houses and gardens, the Sala Bianca in Palazzo Pitti and … the Sala Bianca in Palazzo Pitti 

Pitti is a thing, an event that any lover of fashion will have to experience in their life to consider themselves seriously inducted. When Pitti happens to you, it will never be the same, you can’t really get it any other way.

WARNING: there's a term for these boys, it's "Peacocking" 

I hoped with the book to explain a bit more, my university final thesis was on how Italian fashion was seen and portrayed in the UK in the 80s, point is, here, not to give a lecture on fashion history, but the story telling about what’s really the “fashion” that is a passion of mine and happens to be kind of in the genes of many Italians.

Chapter 6 of the book is called “Borrow from the boys” as part of the Italian way of dressing is to borrow elements from a man’s wardrobe. It’s actually more of a stealing, hence their imperfection, big pants, bigger watches, lace-up brogues or double monk moccasins, sometimes it's a perfume or a overcoat. And, please, who didn't steal a cashmere sweater to their [insert whomever male gender you were close to]. 

Women in menswear feel comfortable, look cool and sexy, things thrown together almost by mistake are worn with nonchalance and manifest empowerment. Pants are two sizes too big? Wear a thick belt at the last hole and wrap the hem all the way up and wear super duper stiletto.

Imperfection leads to effortless, there’s no premeditation, the eye catches a gorgeous tweed deconstructed jacket? There’s no cliché, in anything that you put together, add a feminine touch, and if it’s a pair of stiletto lace ups in suede with mink accents like my Baldinini borrowed for the occasion, why not?

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I barely go out with a mini-dress, but these shoes called for it.

How divine are they?

With frayed jeans, culottes, leather mini dress and animal print I could have definitely be in Florence, but even if I wasn’t, these heels are perfection: the patchwork of the different colored suede , the arch perfectly designed, an architectural heel that resembles the rooftop of the Empire State building and those mink pom poms are to die for.

They are fabulous also on a pile of books like this, kind of "Coveteured", after I took them out on the town. 

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Styling and crackin' for the holidays: connect with stylists on the go

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from www.coveteur.com

Imagine a purveyor of style on-demand from the comfort of your home and it’s not a robot. Yeah, a one-on-one conversation with a personal stylist that will result into a red carpet outfit or a total haul-over of your closet and, still, the only technology involved, is the screen.

It’s personal and intimate, sometimes he or she becomes your own confession channel like your best friend, you know those conversations that remain in your closet? Only difference from that "I have nothing to wear" confession with your friend, with this one you get your wardrobe resolved.

If you are not intrigued enough, I will add that you don’t need to go to the mall, stand in line, you’ll get first hand access to whatever goes public when it’s already public, and you are still sitting in your armchair.

To me it sounds like a Carrie Bradshaw dream.

StyleReply is an online platform that provides on-demand personal styling service, or in other words, it doesn’t matter where you or your personal stylist are, you can be a screen-call away and resolve the outfit for your office gala during lunch time.

Let’s say you need wardrobe assessment and clean-up: open your closet and let the professional do the job while you sip a glass of rose’, at the end of the session you have a pile of clothing for charity, the other to send to consignment or online resellers, you’ll monetize on your wardrobe dead branches and will regenerate life with shopping for the right pieces. I just wrote 300 words of things you can do, and you haven’t moved from home.

It’s a win win, the professional stylist has the flexibility of traveling for assignments, maintain the clientele and make it grow all by having an internet connection. The client has the privacy, the ease of a meeting that is not delayed by traffic or other annoying intermissions and has 24/7 access to professionals that will help with capitalizing in what s-he has instead of running like a headless chicken and falling in the trap of fast fashion smoking mirrors.

It’s competitive, sustainable, supports recycling, reselling, quality and peace of mind, which can be priceless.

There's much more to this: closet rehab (don't we all need this??), guided style shopping, digital lookbook, online shopping (you guys this is heaven), professional look (because sometimes we have corporate attire to respect but we can't bear how boring it is) and wedding styling. For the non-committers, there are 15 mins and 30 mins image consultations that will seal the deal.

To get to know a bit more about how revolutionary StyleReply is, I was privileged enough to be invited to a Kit and Ace Supper Club, otherwise known as collaborative consumption. It was a meeting of the minds, many talented stylists under the same roof sharing a delicious dinner and stories about travels in far away places and new projects, an incubator of ideas running around clothing, beautiful, glamorous and comfortable clothing. 

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Heart in Hands award for No More Tears

I was one of the lucky participants of the “Heart in Hand" Award event organized to raise funds for No More Tears that took place October 1st at The Sacred Space in Wynwood.

"No More Tears" is a non-profit organization that assists and empowers victims of domestic violence and human trafficking. It was founded by Somy Ali who still leads it dedicating 100% of her time, efforts and revenue from donors to the organization.

Being herself a victim of domestic abuse twice before even turning 10, Somy channeled the strength and power needed to resurrect herself from those devastating moments to help other women stand strong on their feet again.

Knowing that Miami is the third place in the US with over 9000 cases a year of human trafficking is creepy, scary and disgusting. It happens in our backyard and danger lurks in disguise, evidently.

The organizing committee was composed of two handful of talented, powerful, strong, smart women who understood two things: collaborating is the best form of success and being victim of human trafficking or domestic violence should not exist on earth, or any other planet where human beings are allowed.

The room was filled with tears of emotion, watching the documentary with the testimony of victims who were rescued, saved and given a second chance in life, listening to the heartfelt acceptance speeches of the five recipients of the Heart in Hands Award, made me realize that's an epidemic. It’s like cancer: you can’t close your eyes and wrap them in prosciutto because “those things don’t happen to you”, we all have instead a moral responsibility to do something.

It may not have happened to us, we may have been lucky to have had strong women and men raising us to be confident and our brothers to be good men, future husbands and fathers, but the risks that our daughters and children may incur in criminal minds disguised as angels are too high not to give us the goosebumps and prompt us to be proactive.

I will have the honor of interviewing Somy for my "style + substance" because she is one badass woman from whom we all have something to learn.

WHO IS YOUR ROLE MODEL? 

All about THAT pink

I remember vividly how I never wanted to be a pink girl, and how adamantly I would ask everybody to ask me what's my favorite color because I would surprise them with Blu'.

I somehow conditioned myself to be a blue girl, just because I never wanted to be like the other girls. 

I found the article Is There Some Reasons Millennial Women Love This Color on The Cut extremely interesting. By "this" it meant pale pink, peach, quartz, rose gold, salmon, creamy, dusty rose.

I am not a Millennial, yet I manifest affinity with many traits of this microscopied and scrutinized generation. Millennials this, Millennials there ... 

Where I grew up, girls in school would wear a long white coat with a pink bow in the back, something very Alice in Wonderland as school uniform, and the boys' version was blue and short.

It is a liberating thought, knowing that my daughter (almost on the cusp of being a Millennial) is not growing up with those mental restrictions. Guess what: she never liked Barbie or anything pink she’d have in the closet.

I can't help but wonder (... I have been binging on SATC lately):

Is “your favorite color” something that comes with genes or it becomes an acquired taste?

My friend Gabriella, of Su Misura Journeys says:  

“I'm loving pink these days. When I was young I hated it because my mother made me wear it all the time. But I love the soft nuanced shades. Italy does pink so well. Also the beige leather at Ferragamo had an almost pink undertone back then. So warm. I also saw it on walls. They called it 'carne' pink mixed with white and yellow in such a subtle and interesting way.”

I love how she uses different nuances, from walls to leather goods, there’s nothing defined, categorized or labeled, it happens nonchalantly, like a disceveled wall and a Madonna in the streets of Florence. 

But now that it's a color Millennial women like, looks like we ough to squeeze in, like when you grab a leg and the girl on the other side that other leg of that only one pair of pants left on sale.

A Loewe affair

In the hottest month of the year Loewe invited me to their flagship in the Design Distric to what came out to be one of the most sophisticated presentations I have ever attended in Miami .

And, I am known for being unapologetic and I say things as they are …

The fashion world is scattered with brands that leave their future in the hands of creative directors and designers and sometimes stylists. In my mind, into book-cave mode and focused on other things, I had dismissed Loewe as “another” one.

Wrong-issima on so many fronts.

The store.

It's been there for over a year now and I had never walked in. It features the remains of a relic smack in the middle that for some reasons sounds creepy, but it props you in an atmosphere of respect, silence and appreciation of the surroundings. Something as spiritual as Stonehenge: all those handbags in exotic skins and nappa, cut and assembled in Spain and displayed in the most irregular shapes look like visitors, wandering around like you exploring the surroundings. You are only bound to revere them.

The brand.

With a story of 170 years (the past), it’s been a staple of the life of countless families in Spain as a luxury brand known for craftsmanship and. Based on principles of progress, expertise, modern (the present) its heart still beats in Spain. A stance projected into appealing a crowd without borders that longs to be inspired.

The designer.

Three years ago it was passed to the hands (and brains) of Jonathan Anderson whose acumen has contributed to the re-interpretation of the brand’s DNA in a dynamic and modern fashion.

The clothing.

The collection is the first of its genre, inter-seasonal or what we call it, Pre-Fall is about refinement and fluidity, tactile sensations from leathers as soft as silk or as rigid as sellers, tailored and oversize, shearlings and volumes. The prints need a special mention, exquisite natural prints that seem coming from the Encyclopedia Britannica. I was especially fond of a mushroom and I think it’s because I am in fall mood already.

What do you wear for an event like this?

For the first time after 20 years I wore half of my wedding dress. I am divorced, but my wedding dress is a relic I proudly keep in my wardrobe. It was designed by a great friend, it wasn’t the first thing made-to-measure for me, but I am told that I was a pain, worse than a bridezilla in the process of deciding how I wanted to walk down the aisle. All I ever knew is that I wasn't imagining myself with a traditional dress. I guess it was worth the pain if after 20 years the skirt, in a pale pearl-grey silk-gazar was resumed, put on, zipped up with no hurt feelings (it could have gone haywire drama craze).

I paired it (down) with an American Apparel V-neck heather grey T-shirt, my ubiquitous FurryLAB feathered slides made with certified authentic vintage astrakhan and crocodile skins and a saffron cross-body purse by Raison d’Etre, the Sabine collection, in a distressed and antiqued leather.

The take-aways.

I discovered a brand.

I developed a crush on the collection. It’s like the first symptoms of being in love, when you keep thinking that you’d wear this with this and that with that without having them in your closet.

It’s in Miami.

The event was exquisitely organized, understated and elegant, nothing was overdone, there were no fake air-kisses.

Everybody was professional, welcoming and pleased to be hosting that I left with that feeling that I wanted to be friends with all of them.

I received a coin purse in gift, so tightly and perfectly packaged that I had double thoughts before opening it, they lasted 5 nano-seconds though.

A hot summer afternoon of skinny-dipping

It's the dog days of summer and rated R headlines are all the rage, especially if you are vacationing, sipping rose' under the striped umbrella at Soho beach house. If you are cooling off in Montauk, you are not exhonerated either, this is a headline that is supposed to attract the highest traffic. 

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You will not be disappointed.

In chic-landia (here)  you know not to expect #OOTD, celebrity spotting or make-up tutorials because 

1. we don't follow trends, we set them;
2. we don't believe in the force of the outfit-of-the-day, because what works for me today doesn't necessarily work or mean anything for anyone else's body or wallet;
3. we wear "barely there" make-up, instead we take skincare as religiously as the morning coffee;
4. also, we don't wear skinny pants and this is a long story you'll fid more about in the book 

So, what the heck are we talking about?

Thank you for reading until here, because what's about to unfold is as juicy and sultry as skinny dipping. 

For real.  

It all started with a bunch of wild girlfriends and a conversation in which we established that European women wear lingerie outside the boudoir, yet also go braless when they feel like it, and that includes the beach (with a certain filter when children are prancing around) because we don't fancy tan lines.

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ombre' sequinned bikini

Then, it continued with the reality that when it's time to start wearing a bra, in Italy, we are accompanied to the lingerie store where the expert sales associates (aka, the owner that has dressed the entire family, generation after generation) find us THE bra. 

That everyone's size is composed by a lot of elements, the ribs, the breast, the shoulders, her posture, her walking and sitting habits that cannot be just confined to a number and a letter. 

That whatever the bra is, a triangle, under-wired or balconnet, padded or semi-padded, lace, tulle, lycra, cotton, it is supposed to make us feel naked, it doesn't show, mark, cut, shows too much, holds the breasts enough not to make it overflow or unflattering.

That we hand-wash said bras and let them dry flat.  In other words, Sophia Loren in her heated 1963 movie "Ieri, Oggi, Domani" didn't do anything far away from reality. Not that every Italian woman looks as damn sensual while manipulating black stockings and garther, but that stockings, bras and underwear hanging in the bathroom is pretty much a true scene as that truth that we talk with our hands. 

As you can imagine, the conversation went BEEP and exponentially happier by the many chilled glasses of rose' circulating. Shortly after, it was decided to all go spend an afternoon at La Perla, the quintessence of Italian lingerie, to make all gf's acquainted with the wolrd of luxury lingerie and feel a bit closer to Sophia.

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I can read anything, even a catalogue

My first job in Miami was in the showroom of La Perla from where I was representing, distributing, merchandizing, marketing, speaking, breathing, wearing their bras and underwear to the Caribbean. And you may imagine how, walking into the boutique, was for me a joyful flashback, to when I had the luxury to be handling every day the most gorgeous collections and was privileged to fit their sample size as a glove. 

Reminiscing of all the techniques, history of the looms and the family who used to own La Perla, sparked up the passion again and the desire to know more of a luxurious world that one can wear without anyone knowing (or maybe only the ones that should know.) 

Lace under-wire or removable pads? coffee or prosecco anyone? is blush or white the most neutral color? fuchsia or sapphire lace? bralette or triangle for home lounging, Leavers lace or Chantilly? laser-cut or soutage bathing suit, hand embroidery and the Maison collection. 

It was a deep-dive into a world where every piece is luscious, sultry, plush, luxurious, alluring, evoking a moment between you and your skin. And there you have the skinny-dipping. 

How easy it is to get used to luxury? Luxury is a state of the mind that prescinds from the monetary value and allows you to be a kid again. Anyone can be a queen for a night, a moment, an afternoon, just act "as if" to feel that richness that nobody will be able to take away. 

On second thoughts, an afternoon at La Perla should be required by law before obtaining a license to be a woman. 

dealing with the F word

Fashion’s July is the month that starts with the sparkles and then sends everyone to Slim Aaron-esque summer vacation.

I am not referring to the 4th of July, but couture and, being Couture, it happens in Paris.

Angelo Flaccavento wrote a punkish article on Business of Fashion on the status of Couture and how it’s been somehow occupied and populated by aliens, that is the ones that don’t belong to Couture, but tag-along. It’s a bit like the phenomenon of Art Basel Miami Beach: from being an art show, to one of the most lucrative and successful art shows world-wide, to: everybody hops on the caravan and everything is dressed up as an excuse to create a party around it. And you see things of Fellinian envy.

“Couture is couture - fashion to the nth degree and the last remaining remnant of the old world concept of fashion as a language and privilege of the elite.”

— "Identity Theft at Paris Couture" - Angelo Flaccavento, Business of Fashion

Couture gives “validation”, couture is couture, “fashion to the nth degree and the last remaining remnant of the old world concept of fashion as a language and privilege of the elite.”

It’s a moment of change in Fashion, gender blending and that awkward almost blurring vicinity between ready-to-wear and couture, which is what Flaccavento is sensing after his week in Paris. Couture is old-school, based on rules that are crystallized in the past, it's slow, it's unique, not replicable or Instagrammable in a #ootd

If fashion were a religion, couture would be its god, the tipping point of Mount Olympus, very much noble and aristocratic and less democratic, if the parallel would hold. 

Nevertheless, for a fashion hard-core extremist like me, confined in the steamiest and most un-glamorous corner I could ever be left at, I need beauty, I need Fashion with the big F, my “eye has to travel” like editrix extraordinaire Diana Vreeland said perfectly in her own special and creative language.

To make everyone up to speed, a couturier is a créateur de mode appointed by the French Chambre Syndicale de la haute couture and designated by France’s Ministry of Industry, a very specific denomination, it’s like the equivalence of a D.O.C. wine or being “Made in Italy” or being an OBE, it doesn’t happen overnight and when you are, you are. There are 8 Italian designers out of 98 and all I am going to do now is to share my absolutely favorites.

Some facts (you may know or not) in chronological order:

1.   Valentino’s duo, Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pierpaolo Piccioli after many years at the helm of the house, split. Rumors were circulating for a while, since the March runway shows, but it was announced the same day the couture collection was shown. Piccioli remains the sole creative director, Maria Grazia is out. They brought the brand up to the limelight, hard workers, skilled, tenacious and capable to maintain the high standards of the Emperor himself, Mr. Valentino Garavani.

2.   Christian Dior, orphan for a few seasons of a creative director after Raf Simons left, tadaaaahhh, has a new creative director, the first woman in the history of the house, and guess who it is? Right: Maria Grazia Chiuri: all the best #girlsrock

3.   Fendi showed the collection in Rome, because first they are from Rome and second this year they are celebrating the 90 years of the atelier. Models and furs seemingly walked on the waters (aka, a see-through plexiglass runway) of the Fontana di Trevi, in a fairy tale reminiscing of Fellini’s “La Dolce Vita” . Karl (Lagerfeld, as you will get used at how in fashion we call the masters by their first name) even tossed the three coins. It must have been magic, that’s all I can say.

On another note, you may have seen some images of Dolce & Gabbana who threw their version of couture Alta Moda, closing off an entire neighborhood of Napoli: they are not couturiers. 

A taste of taste: from that Oscar de la Renta black dress to Bill Cunningham, and back

This is how this post started:

“After all I’ve watched since the 1960s of the women’s movement, it bothered me that women are told that the ultimate expression of dressing is red-carpet worthy”

he said.

“There is something powerful about a dress that is exquisitely tailored and perfectly correct.”

continued William Norwich in an interview with NYT's Dan Shaw talking about the inspiration behing his second novel, “My Mrs. Brown”.  The story of a woman who lived in Rhode Island as a maid and, stricken by an out of the ordinary black dress she peeked in a client’s closet, initiates a trip to the City to look for her version of the same dress, no matter how much it will cost her. Because it’s never too late to find [fill in the blank] ... the Prince, happiness, joy, peace, the job of your life, or, above all, yourself. After you found yourself, just please remember to never feel overdressed and keep your chin high.

Taste is like truffles, must be enjoyed in small doses and it grows on you. 

Today’s fashion’s “business-as-usual” is a "loud" photo-shopped sponsored in-your-face #OOTD after another that somehow has come to overtake and abandon to oblivion a more genteel sophisticated slow-pasted personal style. It may be generational. 

Fashion is in our way of life, style is our lives, whether you live and work for the fashion business or not, style is what says who we are and helps us shape who we want to be. Virginia Wolf is known to have said that no matter how much clothes are sneered at and considered frivolous, “they change our view of the world and the world’s view of us”.

And then, while I was writing, Bill Cunningham dies in NYC at 87 and the post took a different direction, unexpectedly.

The ultimate gentleman, discreetly documenting the real runway that always will be, the street. Not even the father of street style, because that street style we know is commercial, staged, artificial, with no passion other than the temporary happiness money will procure you. Bill says, in the documentary dedicated to hi, “there’s nothing cheaper than money” that is what Cunningham was all about, that’s why he was a one-of-a-kind rare bird of paradise.  

Him and his bicycle, his blue jacket during the day for the “Off the Streets” page and him and his suit or tux when needed for his social page, a frugal and simple life, a reserved, intimate person whose soul, creativity and imagination would peak at the corner of 57th & 5th Avenue, the heart of New York City. There’s a parallel with Mrs. Brown’s life, off the limelight yet lightened up by that Oscar de la Renta black dress.

We live in loudness, arrogance, we are surrounded by vulgar disrespectful presence, “I post ergo I live” people feel alive only if they are visible, no matter if what they showcase is real or purely constructed. Life is not propaganda, thinks Norwich and women exist even when they are over 40, it takes introspective, it takes looking at yourself from the balcony as if you were a passer-by, then looking at your wardrobe and finding out maybe that what you are wearing doesn’t really reflect your YOU now.

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What’s the take-away?

Let’s just remember that “beautiful things don’t ask for attention”. We have all been a Mrs. Brown and the time to go to the city and find THE dress is always now, not "one day" and that corner of 57 & 5th is a fleeting one, one snap away. We will always "dress for Bill" with a genuine smile. 

Have you ever had a black dress you have dreamed of all your life? or a boyfriend or a job ... something or someone to stamp that big smile on your face and everything is gonna be alright.