Category Archives: About

Stranded at home

23 Sunday Oct 2016

Posted by in About, Laboutins, Lifestyle, Little Black Book, Londra, mostra, scarpe

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Plans and life don’t always go hand in hand.

On Friday late afternoon I was heading to London City Airport on the DLR. I left the office early as planned, was on perfect time, ETA 5 pm for a flight taking off at 6, which is plenty of time for City airport, where you feel you are a member of JetNet and everyone looks like they are running an extremely important business. I had a sleek winter wedding outfit in the bag, alongside a shirt for my husband, which he had left behind.

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My planned outfit. Photo credit: dress Hobbs, shoes Christian Louboutin, bag Hugo Boss, fur Canavesi family vintage.

 

And then come the bad surprise, delivered by the DLR’ tannoy: the airport is shut, as the DLR station that leads to it. However Twitter was saying that the airport was open, so I trusted the social media, absolutely adamant of not letting any incident to ruin my plans. I got off at the last suitable station and had prearranged an Uber to make up for the time I was going to lose. Jumped in the car – which I offered to two strangers in my same situation – and after 250 metres we were stuck in traffic. The road leading to the airport was closed as well. Got off, got the notification of the most expensive 250 metres ever done (£7) and walked, alongside many others, towards the airport. There I waited patiently and shared my pain with a couple of “stranded” fellows. Luckily I got a spot on a step and felt lucky for that. The scene in front of me was quite surreal. Usually, the scene of people stranded at airports are of a colourful mix of individuals, dressed in clothes suitable for the place where they are heading, hence often wearing flip flops and shorts, while here everyone was suited and booted, with compact wheelie bags, dark coats, two phones and a laptop. It felt as if Canary Wharf has been evacuated and everyone carried their belongings in their bag.

 

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Waiting to be told what to do

 

No news from the airport on what was happening, which turned out to be a chemical scare or the airline, which couldn’t tell me if my flight was cancelled or not and what my options were. We just kept on seeing fire-fighters and police cars arriving and not leaving. The longer the wait, the darker and colder it was getting, and thinner my hopes to get on a fast flight to Edinburgh, joining the husband – who headed there the day before – and friends. So I did what many people did: read my book, pulled out a warm scarf and socialised with a couple of other people in my same shoes and weighted my options.

At 7.30 I turned my heels and decided to head home, having scheduled a call with BA and asked my family to help to find another flight. Sadly, despite all the efforts, no empty seats were heading to Scotland that would have allowed me to make it on time for a wedding that I was expecting to be pretty special. Sorry, I missed your special day Theo and Rebecca! So what do you do with 48 hours ahead with nothing planned, where a good portion of your friends and your husband are not around? You do what you would not normally do, which turned up to be quite blissful and fulfilling. If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

Also, our designated cat si(s)tter turned out to be ill, which would have meant that our new member of the family would have been starving.

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BoJack sleeps blissfullySo, what did I do?

So, what did I do? While I was walking along the stretched around Hammersmith Bridge, I visited the William Morris Society, mini museum carved out of William Morris’s house, which is a delight for those, like me, passionate about Pre Raffaellites and stylish prints.

 

 

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Original print by William Morris at the William Morris Society

 

I discovered that a new little Italian deli is about to open this weekend, went to the market to get fresh fruit and vegetables, watched a silly French movie, cooked a lot for the week, so do not have to face for a couple of days the dilemma “what can I cook in 5 minutes” which I often face at 8.30 pm, tired and starved, and started a new brilliant book called ‘Sixty Million Frenchmen can’t be wrong”, which is turning out to be very similar to ‘Watching the English’. I thought I better get prepared, in the light of the latest EU summit. Alongside plenty of warning of a rough road ahead, the French language, and everything around it, is very much in vogue.

Shoe or non-shoe?

14 Thursday Jul 2016

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I always thought that no-shoes party – or no shoe policy – would have been the landmark of my early twenties/ party years. Now it turns out they are still very much a common trait of my cappuccino years, as I rebranded my early thirties.

If ten years ago no shoes seemed like a funny and slightly anticonformist idea, today the no shoe policy is so mainstream that not only guests but even workmen like plumbers, bricklayers and builders offer to take off their shoes when they cross your door, without even being asked.
When you visit people’s houses, the no shoe policy is well documented and explained. The reasons go from we have young children and do not want to expose them to germs, to we just have a new parquet to we do not want to disturb our neighbours, to we have a new carpet. But the latter is not something I have heard in person. I cannot be friend with someone who would choose to carpet the floor. All valid reasons, and I respect them.

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Theresa May and her shoe

 

But I am less than thrilled when I am asked to take off my shoes. The first reason is cultural and it is wired in my brain. I have never seen anyone asking you to do so in Italy. Quite the opposite: when someone is visiting you, you probably are going to put on your shoes, to be more presentable and on the same level. Slipper, flip flops, barefoot is to be seen only amongst intimate and immediate family.

Floors are meant to walk on with or without shoes, and that applied to timber, marble and anything in between.
Ask yourself this question: if the Queen or the Prime Minister would visit your house, would you ask them to take off their shoes? The answer is surely no. Because you want to honour those important people, not make them feel diminished or sartorially castrated.
The second reason is purely selfish and aesthetic. Without shoe I feel short (even if I am not) and deprived of my outfit’s foundation. As per many people, shoes are the base and the pinnacle of my style, or I like to think so. And if I spend a good percentage of my salary on a pair or shoes, I want for as many people as possible to look at them, and for women to admire. Shoe are important and not an optional.

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Of course, I would never refuse, if asked.

Now, this comes the confession. I hosted a no shoe party six years ago. No royals or members of the Cabinet were in attendance. The reason why I deprived my friends of such an important accessories was simple: laziness and selfishness. I hosted a rather large party with about 50 people coming in and out just before Christmas, in a small one bedroom flat.No one likes scrubbing the floor while hangover the day after. I was more interested in making things easier for me. And that is fine too.

 

 

Latino vs greco, la spuntiamo sempre noi

01 Monday Feb 2016

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Da LaRassegna

Mi sarebbe piaciuto essere parte del pubblico in sala ad un dibattito che si è tenuto alla fine dello scorso anno sul tema “Grecia contro Roma”. Organizzato da Intelligent Squared, un’organizzazione culturale che mette insieme temi di attualità e opinionisti di spicco, a volte in forma di dibattito, altre volte in stile tavola rotonda. Questa volta si è trattato di un dibattito, di quelli che piacciono tanto agli americani e che vedremo presto in preparazione alle loro elezioni. Il tema era: chi ha portato maggior contributo alla società moderna occidentale, i romani o i greci? Letto da noi, potrebbe sembrare una domanda che viene posta agli studenti dell’ultimo anno di liceo classico o che potrebbe fare da sfondo ad una discussione semi-intellettuale da circolo letterario di provincia. Invece ha attratto grandi numeri, e lasciato molti interessati a bocca asciutta.

Partiti con mille posti a sedere, gli organizzatori, alla luce dell’interesse da evento sportivo, hanno spostato l’appuntamento in un teatro da 2.200 posti, venduti in poche ore, nonostante i biglietti fossero alla cifra non proprio abbordabile di 50 pound (circa 60 euro). Mi sono quindi aggiunta alla lista d’attesa, ma ancora senza successo. A dibattere non erano due sconosciuti o accademici noti solo agli addetti ai lavori, ma il sindaco di Londra, Boris Johnson, classicista laureato a Oxford, e Mary Beard, professoressa di cultura classica a Cambrdige e divulgatrice, che con i suoi programmi di successo su questa materia per la BBC, e un paio di best seller, ha risvegliato l’interesse del grande pubblico su Roma e l’impero romano. Altri autori hanno pubblicato libri di grande successo sempre su questi temi, negli ultimi mesi, a cui si sono aggiunti spettacoli teatrali, altri show televisivi e un vero e proprio festival della classicità in un teatro un po’ d’avanguardia.

Insomma, tutti gli indizi per stabilire che è davvero il momento dei classici. Ma perché proprio adesso?  La risposta non può essere soltanto che una manciata di nomi noti abbia deciso di cavalcare il tema dell’antichità e abbia divulgato il proprio sapere al grande pubblico, fuori da università e circoli di latinisti e grecisti. Quello che stupisce è l’interesse per questi temi, lingue e civiltà in un paese dove il nostro caro, e spesso considerato anacronistico, liceo classico non esiste e dove queste lingue morte sono insegnate, quasi esclusivamente, nelle scuole private, con una connotazione elitaria molto accentuata. E dove l’istruzione media, o universitaria, non include lo studio del latino. Non è infatti un caso che gli organizzatori di Intelligent Squared, con una bella manovra di pubbliche relazioni, abbiano stabilito di devolvere il ricavato dei biglietti all’associazione Classics for All, che si occupa di introdurre Latino e Greco nelle scuole statali.

Il dibattito tra Roma e Atene ci ha ricordato come i greci amavano assimilare e assorbire le idee dei popoli vicini, che i romani stabilirono per primi l’idea di garantire asilo ai rifugiati e dare lo stato di cittadini dell’impero ai popoli che colonizzavano. Sarà forse per questo, per la magnanimità degli antichi romani, che il pubblico ha deciso di assegnare la palma della vittoria a Roma, con un 56 per cento di preferenze a fine dibattito. Probabilmente senza rendercene conto, migliaia di anni dopo che Roma e Atene resero il mondo un luogo più piccolo e dai confini ben definiti, noi spettatori stiamo facendo qualcosa per ripagarli del nostro debito nei confronti del loro contributo alla nostra civiltà. Come so come è finito il dibattito? Sono riuscita a guardarlo in streaming.

Old habits, new habits, no no habits

22 Tuesday Sep 2015

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So much has happened in the last ten (gulp) years since I moved to London. I have learned to move around town like a cabbie, cycle to work and ask people to take off their shoes when they enter my flat. Most crucially, as I have recorded several times in this blog, I got to observe, and of course, make some fun of my fellow Londoners. Inspired by a recent article of the glorious Garance Dore’ about New York, here is my list of best (and worst) habits, shared, acquired and fought.

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Things Londoners do that I do:
Go to the trendy restaurant/ brunch place. Not getting a table and wait for it while sipping a £10 quid drink at the bar. Get that damn table, which I will need to give back in 75 minutes, and pay £ 25 quid for eggs Benedict, realising that the cost of that drink has inflated the bill significantly.

Saying “we need to get together and have a coffee” and never get in touch.

Plan a very ambitious social week, and cancelling all plans because you have underestimated your workload for that week.

15529963333_e76b40bbfcSimilar to the above, meet a friend by chance, agree to meet up, then look at your diary and the only slot available is in three weeks. Put the get together in the diary and then get an epic cold/ headache on the day, cancelling at the last minute.

Drink coffee in a paper cup, and feeling like I mean business just because of that.

Catching a syndrome that I call londonite. The symptoms are guilt for not fitting in your week a new exhibition, a concert, a newly released movie, Pilates and some development courses, such as coding, pottery or Portuguese. The guilt is immense if you spend your weekend watching several episodes of your favourite series or if you find yourself napping during the afternoon during the weekend.
Talk about the newest doctor on the scene specialised in food intolerances and diets, the magician who enabled so and so to loose tons of weight. The conversation usually happens while you are grabbing salted peanuts and have a glass of wine in your hands. 15565763807_0637857b60
Feeling like people from other countries are superior creatures, who can play a sport on a regular basis before work and have a level of stamina that you never had, even when you were 12.

Feel like you are never doing enough. Socialising Enough, creative work, self development, work.

Keep my shoes at work. Walk in flats and get into power shoes at work, keeping a selection of several pairs in the locker or under the desk.
Things Londoners do that I cannot get myself to do:
Queue. The queue at the bus stop. Queue because it is Open House week, London Design Festival, the opening of a new shop, the launch of the Marni collection for H & M. Life is too short, and my calves get stiffed very quickly.

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Be excited about a picnic. I do not get the appeal of eating cold finger food sitting on the ground in precarious hygienic conditions, getting stuffed on crisps and olives. Bring on table cloths and real food, with my legs under a table. And metal cutlery please.
The tube. It is a wonderful mode of transport and overall it does a pretty good job for such a large city. But do not get me on the tube at peak time. I can just tolerate the Circle and District line. My idea of hell is a journey from Heathrow to Canary Wharf, trying to get there before 9 am on a Tuesday.

Work crazy hours. Life is too short and no one, on their death bed, ever said “I wish I worked longer hours”.

Change my shoes in the middle of the street, just before entering an event, heading into an office for a meeting, walking in a bar for a date.

Do my make up or eat on public transport or at my desk. What would you say if your male colleague was using his electric razor at the desk?

Woman making up on her workplace

Woman making up on her workplace

Un altro passo nella Rete?

12 Sunday May 2013

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Come si dice in inglese, vorrei portare il mio blog to the next level. L’opportunità è arrivata in un pomeriggio piovoso, uno dei tanto di questa primavera che assomiglia più all’autunno, chiusa in casa, impegnata ad intrattenermi nella Rete. Grazia.it cerca blogger. Alessandra, che cosa aspetti? Grazia è la rivista che ho visto circolare nella mia famiglia da che ho memoria, e che ha saputo evolversi abbracciando la tecnologia e l’innovazione. Quanto vorrei essere parte di http://www.grazia.it/Stile-di-vita !

Quindi ecco qui il mio – breve – post motivazionale. E scusatemi se queste cose che scrivo di me le sapete già, cari amici e cari lettori… Il mio blog parla di lifestyle, dalla cucina alla moda, passando attraverso arte e design. E’ un blog bilingue, dove alterno post in inglese e in Italiano. Come potrebbe leggermi mia zia altrimenti?                                                                                                          Cosa mi piace: cucinare e leggere, qualunque cosa. Adoro andare per mostre, seguo da vicino cosa succede nel mondo dell’arte e del design. Disegno e produco gioielli e mi rilasso con il cinema indipendente.

Lavoro a Londra nel magico mondo del marketing e della comunicazione, per una multinazionale. Secondo alcuni sono a stretto contatto con le menti più brillanti e creative delle ultime due generazioni, secondo me sono in una posizione privilegiata, che mi consente di capire innovazioni e tendenze prima di molti altri. Corro in modo moderato e mi sposto in bicicletta, cercando di coniugare il fitness fisico e spirituale, con uno stile di vita ecosostenibile.  Quando sono di fretta salto in sella al mio scooter, senza rinunciare a gonne e tacchi. Nella città più internazionale del mondo rimango italianissima, e osservo con occhi a volte ammirati a volte disincantati questo mondo londinese che va veloce.


photo credit: SweetOnVeg via photopin cc

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About me

30 Tuesday Oct 2012

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London is my lover. London is the place I choose to live at this stage of my life, even if I know that it doesn’t do me any good. And if you live here or have stayed in this city for longer than a weekend, you will know what I mean: busy tube, 13 degrees in July, wearing wellies in the middle of August, not finding a taxi when you need it the most or is raining – or both together – sky high rents and house prices driven by City money and tax evaders. Despite all of this, I still love London.

My blog is a guide for any Italian girl who lives in London, and more broadly, for any girl who is lucky enough to live or pass by this amazing city, who is curious about shops, eateries, galleries and trends in general. It is also a good way to keep in touch with all those people who have visited London, loved it and continue to follow its trends and innovations from a distance.

Something about me now: I started my career as journalist in a local Italian newspaper and I am now working in the magic world of marketing, communications and advertising. An omnivorous reader, my passions and interests cover cooking, art and design, jewellery making, art-house cinema, and all those things that help a woman lady to be more presentable. I run and cycle, in an attempt to keep my body (and soul) in good shape and offset my carbon footprint. When I am feeling lazy I ride my little scooter, wearing skirts and high heels. I like scootering in London so much that I even took my red Vespa all the way here.

And in case you are wondering, despite the weather and few other misadventures, London has been very good to me. So far.

Londra è il mio amante. E’ il luogo in cui ho deciso di vivere in questo momento della mia vita, pur sapendo che a volte questa città non mi fa del bene. Se abiti a Londra o ti è capitato di trascorrere qui alcuni giorni, probabilmente sai a cosa mi riferisco: la metropolitana affollata all’ora di punta, 13 gradi a luglio, dover mettere gli stivali di gomma ad agosto perché’ sembra di stare a Venezia con l’acqua alta, non riuscire a trovare un taxi quando ne hai più bisogno, ad esempio quando piove. Per non parlare dei costi proibitivi di affitti e case, gonfiati dai salari alti della City e dagli evasori fiscali internazionali, che sembrano tutti avere almeno un domicilio a Londra, molto più che alle isole Cayman o a Montecarlo. Nonostante tutto questo, io continuo ad apprezzare Londra.

Il mio blog vuole essere un vademecum per le ragazze italiane che vivono a qui e, più in generale, per tutti quelli che hanno avuto la fortuna di passarci, rimanendo incantati dalle vibrazioni, dai ristoranti, dai negozi e dalle gallerie di questa città. I miei post sono dedicati a chi, curioso di vita e di trend, vuole rimanere connesso con le innovazioni e le novità che nascono e raccolgono consensi qui, seguendole da lontano.

E ora vi racconto qualcosa su di me. Inizio la mia carriera come giornalista in un giornale locale. Adesso lavoro da un po’ di anni nel magico mondo del marketing e della comunicazione. Leggo qualsiasi cosa. Mi piace cucinare. Adoro andare per mostre, seguo da vicino cosa succede nel mondo dell’arte e del design. Disegno e produco gioielli (specialmente collane) e mi rilasso con il cinema indipendente. Sono alla costante ricerca del prodotto miracoloso che cancelli le occhiaie, mi tengo informata su creme, trucchi e tutto quello che rende una donna più presentabile.

Corro in modo moderato e mi sposto in bicicletta, cercando di coniugare il fitness fisico e spirituale, con uno stile di vita ecosostenibile.  Quando mi sento pigra o sono di fretta salto in sella al mio scooter, senza rinunciare a gonne e tacchi. Andare in motorino fa parte del mio stile di vita,  tanto che ho anche portato a Londra la mia amata Vespa rossa.

E nonostante la condizioni metereologiche non troppo clementi e un paio di disavventure, Londra mi ha trattato molto bene. Almeno fino ad ora.