Make my heart smile...

1.       The most creative and double yummy cappuccinos in all of Firenze, thanks to my new favorite barista Marco from New Week Café.

2.       Waking up to Jenna’s face every morning, hearing her cough day and night, and our many fail decisions that make for great stories.

3.       My journal that was given to me by Sue and Nin, which has mirrors on the cover so I can look at myself (haha, you guys know me too well).

4.       Blue, suede, ankle strap, rosette, chunky heels I have yet to wear...in Paris perhaps...

Emilia

Milan Fashion Week

It’s that time of year! Fashion week is at it again displaying Fall 2011 lines from the likes of Gucci, Prada, Miu Miu and many many more starting off in the cold crisp air of New York City, making its way to the bustling streets of London, and finally settling down in the Italian Fashion Capital…Milano. On the same continent, in the same country, and a three hour bus ride from Florence to Milan? My decision was clear, this weekend was the weekend to travel north and see a different Italy. The bus ride was pleasant, mainly because The Devil Wears Prada was blasting on the screens making me go gah gah over Andy’s magnificent transformation, and choice of coats. In no time we were walking on the paved (not cobblestone) sidewalks and enjoying the refreshing massive buildings that are not found in Florence.

We first visited the Duomo in Milan, much different than the Duomo in Italy, this gothic cathedral was colossal and one of the largest, oldest churches found in all of Europe. The power felt inside was intense, there were many people praying which took me back to the days I would attend Catholic school on Sundays. I instantly remembered the prayers Father Immanuel taught me and knew my grandma would be proud. I lit a candle and said some personal wishes as well, and then we were off.

A few feet outside the cathedral was the icon white tent where all the fashion shows were being held at, Roberto Cavalli and Emilio Pucci were scheduled for the day. I would have given my right arm to have seen Cavalli’s collection being he is one of my favorite designers ever. One day I keep telling myself…one fine day.

The rest of the day was filled with sightseeing and street style watching, the men in Milano dress to the nine, I couldn’t help gawking at all the fabulous ensembles perfectly chosen and accessorized, these men are definetely not afraid of color! Overall it was a great day, it was nice seeing a more modern Italian city, and it was a once in a life time chance to be so close to the actual fashion shows that seemed worlds away a few months ago.

Emilia

Grandma...Can I borrow this?

As a little girl I used to escape into my grandma’s room, close the door and dive into her closet, piling on her pearls, wearing her classic cardigans, pinning her a-bit-too-big pencil skirts, and applying 5 coats of lipstick. That may be where my love for vintage came from, or shall I say obsession. The thought of wearing something else someone years, eras, and centuries ago wore is pretty damn awesome, the garment itself holds secrets, and memories…it’s been in places and in moments that no one else will ever know. It’s nice to think of a single maxi skirt produced in the 70’s in Italy make its way across the ocean with its original owner, and 40  years later make its way back, worn by a young American student at a nice dinner with her new found friends. Fashion is eternal, it shouldn’t be wasted, it should be kept alive and transferred from person to person, era to era…so buy and sell, trade and borrow…the jacket you wore when you got your first kiss may just as well be the jacket some other girl wears when she gets hers.

The Italian vintage stores here are unlike any I have ever seen…the window displays, the in store closet displays, the décor.  They range from the very expensive vintage finds of Chanel and Ferragamo to simple unknown brands that are more suitable for a student like me…I have my eye on a maxi skirt that is to die for…perhaps ill grab it for Milan Fashion Week on Saturday…you only live once right?

Emilia

Madrid Madness

I never thought I would be able to live in Europe and say, “should we just go to Madrid this weekend?” like it’s a casual little trip to Palm Springs or San Diego…no this is MADRID and this was in fact the best weekend trip I have ever taken.

We left Friday Morning (The Emilys and Jennas) at 7am…took a train to the Pisa Airport (never ridden on a train and I loved it!) and flew out to Madrid in 2 hours and 15 minutes. Once we got off the plane I instantly knew I would adore the city. We checked into our rooms, freshened up and started to explore…walking from street to alley…alley to street. We found some of the most amazing retail stores I have ever seen and I was ecstatic to find the greatest pair of blue ankle strap heels ever! We were all having major Starbucks withdrawals so we were on a never ending pursuit to find one…and we found 3! After the 1^st day of exploration I was dying for the nightlife to begin. We first had tapas at a bar…tapas are little appetizers order with a round of drinks much like the apretivo in Italy. Jenna Dee informed us about a 7 story club called Kapitol that is said to be one of the most epic clubs in all of Europe…so we naturally headed there…and can I say it was E.P.I.C. Each floor had a different vibe, different music, a different crowd…the place was packed…and the décor was on point…to top it all off there was a show with acrobats…it definitely lived up to its name. 

Day 2 was filled with discovering some of Madrid’s more historical and prominent areas. We first headed to Museo del Prado and checked out some Spanish art…my favorite being The Triumph of Death by Brueghel. Then walked to Parque de Retiro and through Parque de Retiro to the Crystal Palace…I felt like I was living in a fairytale because it was all so beautiful, tranquil, and authentic. For the second night (my fav part of the trip) we went and had tapas at the cutest little restaurant and decided to order real Spanish food…so…we got a plate full of Paella (rice with seafood) and a platter of an assortment of fried seafood…yes, I ate an octopus! Then we stumbled upon a club filled with locals…real Spanish women…a group of South African men…all ages…sizes…everyone there to just dance to the beats of a mix of popular American songs and some authentic Spanish beats.

 It was phenomenal.

Emilia

Scuola Del Cuoio, The Leather School

Wet Wednesdays never turn out to be great…rainy….mid-week blues but today we took a little trip with my Fashion Buying class to Scuola Del Cuoio – The Leather School and I left feeling less bluey and all the more inspired.

 We arrived at Piazza Santa Croce where Chiara Ioele led us through a hidden alley way into the most beautiful courtyard where the school is located (I felt like I was walking through the Secret Garden). Once inside I took a look around and was immediately teleported back in time…there was a long, dim corridor where the finest leather artisans had their stations…ready for a long days work ahead. We met with Laura Gori the eldest of three sisters whose father collaborated with the friars of the Monastery of Santa Croce to create a home for orphans after the devastation of World War II. Here, the Gori family established not only a home for the children but a school where the children were taught the trade of leather making goods enabling them to earn a living, and above all give them hope for a better life.

We first met Francesco, a young man who Laura proclaimed was “one of the finest students we have ever had” (top students of the school are offered permanent jobs with the institution).  We then went to Mr.Chitties station…a man who had been working there for 40 plus year, and watched him effortlessly work on a customized order with the most luxury ostrich skin. Finally we went down a flight of stairs to the classroom holding only 13 students who worked diligently on their projects. Students from all over the world are allowed to “attempt” to attend Scuola Del Cuoio but only the true leather artisans are allowed to continue their studies there…a girl from Kenya, an Italian boy and a man from Singapore to help you get an idea of the worldliness of the institution.

 Scuola Del Cuoio is not just a leather school, it is a homey little organization that was placed to give the struggling children of the past a fresh start, encouragement, and fuel the Florentian leather trade with the finest taught craftsmanship. They now make custom handbags, cuffs, wallets, coin purses and much more…so if you have an extra 3,000 euro lying around I suggest grabbing one of their bags.

Emilia

Love is in the air

I was never one big on Valentine’s Day…even if I had a Valentine of my own but the romance that exudes from every Italian soul defiantly added to my lovey dovey Valentines Day feeling. Sitting and observing the millions of couples that frolic in this beautiful city of love was refreshing to say the least. Couples, from the teens entering their puppy love stage to the eldest having lived decades and memories together hold hands, link arms, lean and take a moment to stop in the center of Piazza Republica for a quick peck…no one is scared of showing affection...it is true, honest, and real.

 I had spent the last few weeks taking notice of the duos in Florence and spent a good hour in Piazza Republica on V-Day paying close attention to just that… having a midday lunch on the grass of the Arno River, sitting on a bench in the center of a Piazza arguing over a map, sneaking a passionate kiss in a deserted alley way or sitting on the steps of the Duomo snapping photos of each other…

The idea of love and passion is so deeply rooted here that locals have built a tradition of locking ones love by locking a padlock with their lovers name on it along the Arno River and throwing the key into the River…becoming eternally bonded.

Jenna was my Valentine this year, we spent it at Leo Gusto’s sharing white wine, amazing pasta, a light salad and panna cotte for dessert.

Perfetto.

A Sunday of Epic Proportions

A productive Sunday cleaning the apartment, laundry, dishes, mopping the floors, etc. led to a Sunday of epic proportions. It was the last day of the Chocolate Festival and I HAD to have my crepe…(it was a tad bit sweet for even my taste but good none the less). We decided to search for a new café and have some cappuccino before heading to the market to buy our supplies for the week…and head back home. As Jenna and I were wandering the city we heard intense chanting, and the sound of beating drums so we decided to head towards the sound. What we came across were 8 ladies wearing neon colored bobs each with a different drum set strapped to their bodies…banging way producing some awesome beats. There were a group of kids with dreads passing around a bottle getting wasted and an enormous amount of older women “Ay Ay Aying” away (think Indian chants). We got swept away in the crowd and naturally joined the protest…hoping…jumping…dancing…clapping and ay ay aying with the local Italians. It was an experience like never before…you would NEVER see such a thing in America…the cops would break that up in a second. It was nice to be a part of something so epic and it was nice that the Italian government let the people do their thing. The protest was against Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi’s recent sex scandal exploiting young Italian women…paying for sex with a minor which is illegal in the country. More than 200 towns in Italy and neighboring countries stormed the streets and it was absolutely crazy to be a part of Italian history.

Emilia