Listening to Gilda Gilda (as she likes to call herself in alliteration) speak about fashion is like orchestral music to the ears. She’s a design student, artist and street style darling. Her calling card is her thick, long black hair. Jet black like Barbara Martelo, rough around the edges like Chiara Totire. She is my new obsession.
Gilda’s easel are her vintage jeans. Cut like a mom, patchworked like a boss. It’s a stellar idea I think I might just have to pay homage to it. You can catch me at a Value Village copping all the mom jeans in a size 2 and spray painting Aldo shoes in pastel blue because I can’t afford the Saint Laurent version. Annnnd just spent half an hour perusing the online store after looking up the link for all you cutie patooties. Thanks. Found my next purchase whenever I get an extra G my way: studded Paris 105’s.
She’s buddies with all the Grazia.it girls and they sort of congregate around after MFW shows smoking cigarettes, pseudo-posing for the cameras probably talking about the next Fausto.
And now for the street style images that haunt my dreams:
