The fashion capital of the world

Saturday was marvelous. Yesterday was awesome. Everyone was mistaking me for Italian and starting every conversation in that lovely rattle-and-flow language of love. I was failing utterly to dredge up any Italian whatsoever (but I could read and understand it!).

And then? Today.

Today? Marvelous? Not so much. What changed, you ask? As far as I can tell, I made Three Little Mistakes.

Let’s start with the city’s advertised raison d'être:  Fashion. Milano is (at least in the Milanese hearts and minds) the fashion capital of the planet. Paris would likely argue this – and win – but never mind. Let’s just run with this one.

Mes amis have a way of regularly reminding me (recent thanks to Jeremy) that I dress like a girl geek. Par consequent, I should have thought twice before stepping a sandal-clad foot onto the cobbled streets of Milano. Did you know that sandals are decidedly sans de rigueur in Milano. No? Where have YOU been?

No one would actually TELL you this key bit of information. Not even the trusty Interwebs.  It’s so much more fun to have a super-secret code! (But wait! Looking like you are having fun is another super-secret no-no in Milano. Unless the fun is to be had at the expense of un touriste.)

                                 

What’s a girl to do?

Maybe find a small, out of the way café and sip a cappuccino. Served by a hot Italian guy. That’s it. That’s safe.

Ah HA! Touriste. (Can you say that French word with a Milanese sneer?) It is après-midi! Never, ever order a cappuccino in the afternoon in Milano! (You idiot.) Oh. Did they serve it to you with a cute little heart inscribed in the foam? Have you even READ  La Lettre Écarlate du Touriste?  

So far as I am aware, these were my two mistakes. Oh yes. And wearing purple. Don’t wear purple.

As a result of these three mistakes, there were precisely three people who were friendly to me. One introduced himself to me as a massagio. I am pretty sure that was super-secret Milanese code for the more common word, gigolo. The other two? Well, Milano is consistent, if nothing else.


Is this the real reason foreigners go to Milan?

Conclusion? Milan and I are not soul mates. Take your trendy little stiletto and dig into any aspect of Milan you like – and I am probably not all that into it. 

Verona, on the other hand. I would go back there in a minute.