My Style | Dial M for Milan

If diplomacy in 2014 involves purring Maserati engines and parties aboard Italy’s newest aircraft carrier, Cavour, then surely an outfit post paying homage to the cinematic quality of Italian women is at best, a valiant attempt at international relations. Or it could very well just be a girl standing in front of a pseudo-European facade, asking it to love her.

But there is something so movie-like about the manner in which Italian women move and glide across a piazza, cigarette in one hand and gesticulations of large proportions in the other. I could study them for hours. In fact, I have spent countless hours analyzing la donna italiana. She is so matter-of-fact in her mannerisms, eclectic in her accessories and ageless in beauty. Sex appeal is never diminished, no matter how much she covers up. Her only makeup is a tan. And don’t even get me started on the Italian woman at the beach – she’ll make you want to either walk straight into the ocean without a lifejacket or straight into Missoni to buy out their entire swimsuit line and coverups.

I can only assemble my own mock-up of an approximation of what might be considered by some, a counterfeit facsimile of an Italian woman. The Gucci bag helps. Surprisingly, Italian women are nothing without their ballerina flats. I indeed bought this blue pair in Italy – and no they are not Ferragamo. They are mercato. My sunglasses however, are the real deal. It would be detrimentally remiss of me to forgo “faceshields” when emulating the Italian aesthetic. I mean, the whole reason I started to wear sunglasses was after a trip to Italy at the turn of the millennium; everybody in Italy wore Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses, Prada and Emporio Armani. Lacking in adequate eyewear, I felt naked next to my fellow, Etruscan ancestors. And that is a version of my personal history I will forever negate. Again, never leave the house without a pair of occhiali da sole lest you want to be found out.