Twenty something year old doing twenty something year old things

 I have a lockdown outfit and it is in this outfit that I have spent the last three days. Vogue would, I like to think, call it the perfect 'transition' piece from night to day and vice versa. The versatile garment I refer to is a red all in one piece, consisting of red harem style pants and a scoop neck top half. It has big pockets and makes me feel like an empowered genie emerged from a bottle. Underneath this fabulous number I wear a green and white pinstriped top with a triangular bib. I have been told, I think rudely, that this top is very 'POW' but I believe it is time for the stripe to be reclaimed.  I have daily walks in my romper, I call friends in this romper, I zoom in the romper and today I recorded a self tape in the romper--if I get the role I will be at risk of never changing out of it again for it will be my 'lucky' romper.  Last night, lounging in my romper, I spoke to a friend who lives on the other side of the world, she is from Oz and althoug...

 Brown paper packages tied up with string, these are a few of my favourite things....I also like brown cardboard packages that arrive in post boxes. One of this kind arrived today, sent by a generous friend and containing Kiley Reid's Such a Fun Age which, I am told by same friend, is about a girl who is twenty six and so sarcastically explores the premise that this is "such a fun age". Something that, we both agree, is not always true and entirely not true at present thanks to a certain Ms. Rona. Yes, I am naming and shaming.  Blame game aside, today I met a delightful being in a beautiful pea green coat and clod in black leather boots with transparent heels. This mirage was my sister though she was very much in the flesh. We had planned to have a snow date though the snow had up and gone, apart from swirling back briefly to kiss us goodbye (as we said goodbye). She bought me a hot chocolate, "for takeaway"--important to let them know, remember--and we discusse...

  The below essay was written roughly two years ago, a time when my freedom to travel and move about unrestricted was taken, if not for granted, certainly with a lightness of attitude quite enviable now.  I, like many, long to return to countries that I fell in love with and now feel very far from. The opportunity will come again but for now I shall visit them vicariously and nostalgically through passionately and mostly naively written essays. I am not nor do I pretend to be an expert on Italian culture, we shall leave that to the capable hands of the Italians. Instead this essay features my observations and should probably be taken with a pinch of salt, or, in the spirit of things, a large glass of vino rosso! The country that gave us Commedia Dell’Arte, Opera, Olive oil and Wine; synonymous with the words ‘passion’ and ‘love’ yet simultaneously infamous for disorganization and chauvinism. Italy puzzles and enthralls many, including me. A lucky opportunity to travel around...