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The Secret To Italian Style – Fare La Bella Figura

“The Creator made Italy from designs by Michelangelo.”
Mark Twain


Have you ever wondered what is the secret to Italian style? How Italians manage stilettos on cobblestones or how they look chic and elegant at all times? After moving to Italy I discovered the secret to Italian style. The secret to Italian style is more than just dressing well. Looking good is a cultural norm learned from birth. In Italy, one learns from an early age the importance of fare la bella figura.

Italian style. A quintessential Italian woman dressed elegantly.
The quintessential Italian woman. Stylish and elegant. Photo credit: https://www.walksofitaly.com/blog/how-to/what-italians-wear-in-spring

 

FARE LE BELLA FIGURA | A GOOD FIRST IMPRESSION

Fare la bella figura” literally means ‘to make a beautiful figure.’ The phrase refers to the Italian ideal of looking your best at all times, making a good impression and is at the core of the secret to Italian style. For this casual Californian, this concept may be the biggest challenge that I faced living in Italy.  Northern Italy is the home of Milano, the seat of fashion houses and world famous designers. People are stylish there.

After moving to Italy, I was jet lagged and coming down off of an emotional roller coaster of a year. I was unaccustomed to humidity and was sopping wet every time I stepped outside.

There I was the first day of school in Italy, bedraggled, exhausted, and definitely not stylish. I hadn’t felt the need to dress up for the ten minute walk to school when I was just going home to unpack dirty, dusty boxes. I felt good about myself that I had managed to brush my hair, put on some makeup, and don my fancy Taryn Rose flip flops.

I arrived at my children’s school. I looked at all the Italian mothers and thought “uh oh.”  Not only were they thin and physically beautiful, they were stylish in an understated elegant way. Northern Italian women don’t wear a lot of makeup. They don simple, high quality, finely tailored clothes. They wear dresses, skirts and lots and lots of stilettos. And boots – year round. And scarves – year round.  I stood on the sidewalk, hair in a ponytail, wearing California athleisure wear and flip flops. Needless to say, I stood out like a sore thumb.

MUSINGS AND OBSERVATIONS | HOW DO THEY DO IT?

I pondered the secret to Italian style. Was the secret to Italian style simply having enough money to buy the best clothes? Was the secret to Italian style some special hair product that stopped your head from sweating all day long and looking like one just got out of the shower? I was determined to find out the secret to fare la bella figura.

I had a conversation with my English friend Diana about the Italian women’s seemingly effortless style. Diana noted that if you went to the supermarket in England dressed like an Italian woman does, everyone would think, “what is she trying to prove?”  I thought about how people would react if you showed up at Safeway in stilettos, a dress, a scarf – Diana was right.  Americans too would think you were putting on airs. The only reason you would wear high heels to the supermarket in America was if you were on your way to or from work or an event. In Italy, however, it a common occurrence.

I will admit, from my California perspective, it seems like a lot of work to get dressed up just to run to the supermarket, go to the gym, or walk the kids to school. But dress up Italians do. I was no longer in California and if I didn’t want to stand out I was going to have to make some changes. Wearing exercise clothes on the street is just not done in Italia, and flip flops (my shoe of choice in California) are reserved for the pool or the health club.  If I continued my disregard for la bella figura, I may offend someone or at the very least confuse them.  My American friend Sarah told me that once she went out in her “tuta” or her exercise suit with no makeup. She ran into her landlady who promptly contacted Sarah’s Italian in-laws to inquire if Sarah was feeling ill since she had been out of the house looking so casual.  In Italy, being ill is the only excuse for failing fare la bella figura.

LESSON NUMBER ONE | KNOW THY SELF

The first week I sat back and observed. I saw one woman ride up to school on her bicycle in a tight pencil skirt, gorgeous blouse and stilettos. There was a light summer rain. She rode her bicycle while holding an umbrella, one child on the back of her bike and another in the front.  She arrived, floated off of her bike, got the kids out of their seats, grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and glided into school. Not a hair out of place. I watched – mouth agape. She couldn’t be a real mother of two small children. She looked like a super model. I looked around for a film crew. This had to be fake.

The one thing that stood out to me was her air of confidence. She was comfortable in her own skin.

So, first on the list toward achieving Italian style – feeling confident that you look good and not caring what others think. Now this seems to be incongruent with the concept of fare la bella figura, but it is not. Putting your best face forward means different things to different people. As long as you carry yourself with the confidence of an Italian woman in stilettos on a 1,000 year cobblestone street, all will be fine.

LESSON NUMBER TWO | KNOW THY PRODUCTS

I soon came to accept that not only are Italian women stylish, they don’t seem to be affected by weather. Italian women’s hair is never out of place. The weather wreaks havoc on my hair regularly. In the summer the humidity leaves my body and head wet and it renders my hair a wet, frizzy, wonky mess. In the spring, the pollen makes my eyes water and my nose run constantly leaving me looking like W.C. Fields. The wet winter rain and fog makes my eyes water resulting in black raccoon eyes from runny mascara. And again, my hair becomes a frizzy wonky mess. Why don’t Italian women suffer as I do? Is it genetics? How do they do it?

The second lesson on achieving Italian style, know your hair and powder your face. There are a number of hairstyles that one can wear to combat the weather and a number of hair products that can tame the wildest of manes.  One thing that I noticed is that it is not uncommon for Italian women to don a scarf on their heads while they are traveling. Think Sofia Loren in a convertible on the Amalfi coast. A headscarf can be tied around your hair to protect it from the weather, and then upon arrival, it can be stylishly tied around your neck, shoulders or handbag.

Also, one Italiana informed me that one simply must invest in a high quality face powder to ensure that your makeup does not melt off. And carry face blotting towelettes.

LESSON NUMBER THREE | COMMIT

Fare la bella figura is not limited to young women either. I have seen many an older Italian woman doddering along, holding on to her companion for support in stilettos! Stilettos! They can barely walk anymore, but damn it if they aren’t going to look good. I will admit that I have yet to attain this level of fare la bella figura.

Lesson number three on achieving Italian style, you are never too old to care about how you look. The third secret to Italian style – commit to fare la bella figura for life.

The older women also love their hats, fur coats, scarves and handbags. I particularly like to watch the older ladies during the Christmas season as Italians dress up to do their Christmas shopping. At the beginning of December, the older Italian women put on their finest attire as they stroll around the main piazza and shopping streets showing off their coats, hats and handbags  It is a far different atmosphere than the images you see of people clawing and fighting over items at WalMart.  This is a slow, deliberate shopping experience.  A chance to show off your best face.

Another difference between Italy and the USA, no one in Italy is afraid of PETA. Fur and leather abound, particularly among the older crowd. Fur hats, fur coats, fur trimmed scarves, fur lined leather gloves, fur lined leather boots, leather pants, and leather skirts are commonplace.

LESSON NUMBER FOUR | TEACH THY STUDENTS WELL

Lesson number four on achieving Italian style, teach the males in your life the importance of fare le bella figura as well. Italian women are not alone in pursuing la bella figura. Italian men spend an equal amount of time on their appearance. Italian men’s clothes are often tailored. It is unusual to see baggy clothes on men here. Italian men also wear sweaters quite a bit. Not just pullover sweaters, but cardigans. And they like to roll up the cuffs of their pants, jeans, shorts.  Italian men wear scarves as often as women do and they pay a lot of attention to their shoes. They also carry bags made of beautiful leather – or what we would call a man purse, a ‘murse.’

Older men frequently wear suits, bow ties, fedoras, and a scarf. They dress this way all the time – just to go to the post office or the vegetable market.  And where the Italian women tend to be understated, Italian men have a flair for bold style. They are not afraid to wear colors and patterns. Lord knows they love a brightly colored pant.

I have observed the Italians for over three years now. I will admit that while I have learned a thing or two, I am still amazed at how they pull off la bella figura every single day. They make being stylish and elegant look effortless and easy. I still cannot navigate cobblestones in stilettos and I still do not dress up to run to the supermarket across the street, but, I have improved. I no longer wear flip flops.

Fare la bella figura is part of the Italian culture. It is expected, and I have come to appreciate it. The attention to style makes one feel a bit better when you are out and about. And it makes for great people watching.

The Italian author Beppe Severgnini summed it up best. “Being Italian is a full-time job. We never forget who we are, and we have fun confusing anyone who is looking on.”


The photos of Italian style are not my own. I got these off of the internet because it is not good form to take photos of strangers, but I assure you that I have seen some version of each of these outfits on a regular basis.

All Saints' Day · Americans abroad · art · Christmas · European travel · ex-pat life · festival of lights · Helsingborg · Insider Tips · international travel · Malmö · mys · mysig · nature · Skåne · Skåne Sweden · Thanksgiving abroad · Travel

All Saints’ Day – Lighting The Way to The Holidays

 WINTER CELEBRATIONS | ALL SAINTS’ DAY

We Americans love Halloween. Besides the candy filled extravaganza, the fun of dressing up and parties, Halloween also marks the beginning of the winter holiday season. In quick succession it goes, Halloween, Thanksgiving and then Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanzaa . . . In my adopted home of Sweden, however, Halloween is not the hallmark of the winter celebrations. All Saints’ Day, celebrated November 1, holds that title.

Unlike, Halloween though, All Saints day is a day of respect and reflection. All over Sweden cemeteries are illuminated with candles in remembrance of loved ones. The site is a beautiful one to behold. It is an elegant reminder that life is precious.

All Saints’ Day, also known as All Hallows’ Day, Hallowmas, the Feast of All Saints, is a Christian festival celebrated in honor of all saints and loved ones who have passed away. All Saints’ Day in Sweden also marks the first day of winter.

Limhamns Kyrka ready for the All Saints' Day observance mass and concert.
Limhamns Kyrka ready for All Saints’ Day observance mass and concert.

The tradition of lighting loved one’s graves began in Sweden in the 1900’s. Originally though, it was only the wealthy and upper classes who honored their dead on November 1st. For some reason, which I have not been able to track down, the practice slowly made its way to Swedes of all classes after WWII. Eventually, churches began holding services and concerts in conjunction with their flock’s practices and the day became an official holiday and harbinger of winter.

All Saints’ Day is a national Swedish holiday in modern times marked by: a day off of work if November 1 happens to fall on a weekday; a visit to the cemetery for the lighting of candles and the leaving of wreaths and other trinkets: a family gathering; and, a special meal.  

SOFIERO’S WINTER CELEBRATION | A FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS

It is no surprise that Swedish winters are dark, damp and cold. So often when Swedes hear that I am a California native they immediately ask me how I am surviving the winters. I tell them, honestly, that I love Swedish winters. I mean, yeah, I have a week of adjusting when the early dark days begin, but I absolutely love how Sweden makes a great effort to achieve mysig or mys. Mysig is the creation of a feeling of coziness and warmth. Swedes use all sorts of tools to achieve mys – blankets, lanterns, fire pits around town, mulled wine, yummy food, and of course, lights and candles. Lights and candles are everywhere during the winter months. And they do indeed make a person feel cozy.

At Sofiero, the Swedish royal family’s old summer cottage in Helsingborg, they celebrate the beginning of winter each year with a festival of lights.

Sofiero is famous for its lovely garden. It is a gardener’s delight when in full bloom in the springtime, but it is just as magical in the winter. During Sofiero’s annual Festival of Lights, the entire grounds are awash with different colored lights and candles creating a mystical canvas. They also offer warm food and drinks at various stations throughout the grounds with everything from a full meal to sweets and warm drinks. If you visit with children (and I would recommend that you do) make sure to avail yourself and your kids of the enchanted forest. Rumor has it, they even have a marshmallow roasting pit.

 

A visit to Sofiero’s festival of lights is a great way to get your mys on, chase away the winter blues, experience the magic of a lighted forest, and say, “hello darkness my old friend.” 

Americans abroad · Emilia Romagna · European travel · ex-pat life · international travel · Italian food · Italy · Parma Italy · Thanksgiving abroad · Travel

Frankenturkey

HOW TO KEEP TRADITIONS ALIVE WHEN LIVING ABROAD

We had been in Italy for two months.  It was our first Thanksgiving away from home.  We were all homesick.  Everything is difficult to accomplish when you don’t speak the language. Even the simplest of tasks is difficult. We were all emotionally exhausted.

turkey1
In addition to adjusting to a new home, country and language, our 13 year old son was taking classes in English, French and Italian while trying to simultaneously learn French and Italian.  We were all pretty beaten down. I was determined to celebrate Thanksgiving and have a day from home in Italy.

ROUND 1 | PREPARATIONS

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorites holidays. I like that it is a day of reflection. There is no emphasis on gifts, just food, family and friends. One of Aleksander’s new friends asked him what Thanksgiving was. After Aleks explained it to him he said, “That sounds great. Can I come?”  A friend for dinner – thank you Jesus, yes! Maybe we would see a glimpse of our former son.  That would be something to be grateful for. Aleks’ friend inspired me. I invited some new friends to join us – two American families and one family that is a mix of English and American. I envisioned a day conducted entirely in English for our tired minds and spirits – yay!

So, how to pull it off?  Turkey is not as popular here. I wondered where I would find a whole turkey.  I figured the rest of the meal would be easy as the ingredients are all common items, but a whole turkey was going to be a problem.  At school one day an Italian mom happened to tell me about a poultry farm that her family had used for decades. I got our neighbor to call and order me a whole turkey.  “7 kilos? Are you sure? That is quite large.” “Yes, I am sure.”  A 7 kilo/15 pound turkey is not big by American standards, but it is huge by Italian standards. We measured the inside of the “Easy Bake” sized oven. We prayed it would fit.

Since Thanksgiving is not a holiday here, we decided to celebrate it on the Sunday after Thanksgiving.  That Friday, Joe went to pick up the turkey on his way home from work.  He called ahead and got directions. He input the information into the GPS.  He drove around for an hour in fog twice as think as San Francisco fog searching for the farm.  He couldn’t find it. He called for directions again. He couldn’t find it.  After the third phone call, the poultry farmer told Joe to stay put. He would come and get him and take him to the farm. Joe arrived at the farm and asked for our turkey. “Your wife already picked it up.” “That is impossible. I have the car.”  “An American woman came and picked it up this afternoon.” Gee, do ya’ think that maybe you could have told Joe that it had been picked up one of the three times he called you? You know, before he drove around for an hour in fog thicker than pea soup looking for you?

What had happened is another American woman had decided that she wanted to have Thanksgiving too.  She had asked me where I was going to get my turkey. I gave her the number to the turkey farm and explained that she needed to call and order her turkey well in advance. She needed to order the turkey because the farm didn’t normally keep turkeys but could get them if ordered.  I ordered mine two weeks in advance. I don’t know where the mix up happened along the way, but, the other American woman got our turkey. There was no second turkey at the farm for us.  Our first Thanksgiving in Italy, three families coming over and no turkey.

ROUND 2 | FRANKENTURKEY

We had Friday afternoon and Saturday morning to try to figure it out as stores are closed Saturday afternoon and Sunday,  Lena had an Italian friend over that Friday afternoon. I dragged that poor girl to every store I could think of asking if they had any turkey.  The butcher across the street had a few pieces.  Joe got a few pieces from the farm and thus, Frankenturkey, was built.

Next, we had a house to clean and a feast to prep. Lo and behold, I woke up Saturday morning sick.  Like in bed with a fever kind of sick.

Oh, and all those ingredients that I thought would be so easy to find. Not so much. Cranberries were no where to be found in the normal supermarkets. I asked in the fruit and vegetable stores. No. I asked in the frozen foods store (yes, there is an entire store devoted to frozen foods). No. On my quest I stopped in a Russian store hoping to find some things for our Polish Christmas celebration. Low and behold, sitting there in the freezer section there was a pack of what looked like whole cranberries. I took a risk and bought them figuring I’d look up what they were when I got home. At home the package title translated as mooseberries – also known as the high bush cranberry! Hallelujah!

Cranberries, check.  Now pumpkin pie.  I went to all the same stores asking for pumpkin (zucca). The Parma region serves quite a bit of pumpkin filled pasta in the fall so this should have been an easy task to find pumpkin.  Yeah, again, not so much. I went to the supermarket armed with my very limited Italian and Google Translate. I found a commessa and tried to explain what I needed for una grande tradizionale festa americana.  “Oh, si, la festa di ringraziamento! mi piace molta la festa di  ringraziamento.”  Great, she has heard of Thanksgiving and she really liked it!  Certainly she would help me. I told her that I need pumpkin for a pie. “Per una dolce?? Per una torta?”  She looked very confused and a bit disgusted. Yes I told her it is a very important part of the meal.  “Per torta?  hum?”  She told me that the pumpkins were last month. They were all gone. OK. I asked if they had pumpkin in a can?  At this point her look tells me that she is not only disgusted, but angry at the thought of pumpkin in a can. “No!”  She turned and walked away.

The other families had offered to bring dishes. I decided to punt the pumpkin pie to someone else who had been living in Italy longer.

ROUND 3 | SOMETHING TO BE THANKFUL FOR

Sunday arrived. I was still sick, but Joe rose to the occasion. He slaved away in the kitchen all morning. The house wasn’t as clean as I would have liked, but it is a small space and when filled with people, it was passable.

Our friends Jan and Steve brought some excellent Italian wines. Julie and Don brought the pumpkin pies and Lisa and John brought the green bean casserole.  I am pretty sure everyone had a good time. I know my family did.

At the end of the day, after all the running around, me getting sick, and, presenting Frankenturkey instead of a whole bird, it was worth it. We had a fun day filled with the company of new friends and a traditional Thanksgiving feast. The thing I was most grateful for that day though, was this – the kids were smiling again.

turkey2