La bella figura

I have a dress, an old thing that has been with me since I was 21, long past its best it still fits and has become my default outfit when I don’t plan to go anywhere or do anything of a day.  This morning when I realised that I was without milk this was the dress I threw on to run out to the supermarket.  Turning the corner I was confronted with a fashion culture class in the form of the typical Trevisan signora.  Despite it being early on a Sunday the signora was perfectly presented in a pink suit, accessorised with bracelets, earrings, necklace, make up applied; not a strand of hair out of place, and most strikingly wearing a towering pair of black heels (pretty impressive given the cobblestones.)  Our eyes meet in mutual incomprehension for my part I was trying the understand why anyone would spend so long on getting ready for a Sunday and no doubt she was wondering how the hell anyone could let themselves be seen in such a ratty old dress

It’s called La Bella Figura and is the Italian art of presentation.  That is to always be well “turned out,” and the Trevisans certainly take this to heart.   Treviso is home to those fine purveyors of multi coloured knitwear Benetton and as well as their flagship store my new high street shops are the likes of Max Mara, Gucci and Ralph Lauren.  A couple of weeks ago returning late from a glorious afternoon of sun, sea, beer, and ping pong at the beach I was surprised to see the shops of Treviso still in full retail swing – It was long gone 10pm.  It was the annual white night.  The first day of the summer sales when the stores stay open to midnight and the Trevisan population shops like, well much like it does the rest of the week.  Italians take their dressing seriously – well you would when you have to maintain the reputation of being one of the most stylish nations on the planet.  

A walk through the main square of an evening you quickly notice how everyone (local) is impeccably dressed.  The women wear towering heels and figure hugging clothes, jeans are tight, whites are whiter than white (all the better to show off that summer tan.)  The hair is perfect and the jewellery, for my taste, just the wrong side of east coast rapper blingy.  The male Trevisans’ look can be described as sports casual.  Labelled polo shirt with collar turned up, jeans, slacks or long pressed shorts and what I consider to be one of the world’s ugliest looks; moccasins without socks.  Just the moccasin itself would be bad enough but the whole long trousers and no socks topped off with the moccasin I just find so distressing. 

My old home Melbourne considers itself quite a stylish place and in Australia Melbournians are famed for their distinct style embracing every shade of black.  You may laugh but its true Melbournians wear almost exclusively black.  Get us in a room together and look down, the effect is akin to a drawer full of socks.  It’s not then surprising that I look a bit different to the average Trevisan.  Since arriving here my look has often been commented on.  Italians take notice of what you’re wearing and are not shy in telling you what they think.  Walking around town I have become accustomed to the very deliberate and in no way furtive manner in which the Italians look you up and down.  And it’s not just women who comment, a friend’s boyfriend recently told me that he liked the way I dressed (which is largely dictated by what is currently clean.)  Given that my clothes are more likely to come from Kmart than Prada I felt that was a small triumph for affordable fashion. 

While the thought spent on appearance can only be applauded especially after any visit to Venice where the overwhelming majority of tourists sport ill fitting, flesh exposing and badly accessorised clothing (really people I’m all for comfort but does being on holiday give you the excuse to dress badly?  Surely you must have something decent packed in those oversized suitcases that you do insist on dragging around.)  I can’t help but notice how the idea of a stylish bella figura has resulted in everyone dressing the same.  Even across generations; when I first arrived I was taken aback at the sight of a parent and teenage child dressed in identical clothing now I don’t bat an eyelid.  Fashion like much else in our world is becoming increasingly homogenised a wealthy Trevisan dresses much the same as their equivalent in Britain (the Sloane ranger) and Australia (anyone from Toorak.)  While at times I find dressing up fun and like how my choice of clothing reflects my mood for me the perfection of the Italian ladies is just too much work (and let’s face it in my case pretty unattainable) I really can’t be bothered to spend the time and effort to look perfect and if I need to run out to get some milk on a Sunday morning I’m not going to worry about matching my shoes to my outfit.  There’s a lot to be said for the time saving benefits of relaxed chic.

As fashion is seasonal expect me back in a few months with my thoughts on the autumn looks!