Barcelona’s filaments

What can be worst than a business trip that brings you in a great city (well, many but that’s another story) for your first time — ever –, for less than 24 hours most of wich you have spent in offices breathing A/C rather than being on the ramblas enjoying the vibe?  Now I finally get what people like about the city.  It’s relaxed, it’s cool, it’s contemporary.  Even while I was working I could feel its life in the air, the energy running underneath the building I was in.  I felt I belonged to the environment at a point where I didn’t felt bad eating a (damn) good Japanese dinner without missing something more “traditional”. Let’s the tourists have that.   Visiting the Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família by night with a man that does trading in fashion and funeral honours seemed perfectly normal to me. So despite the fact that Spain is in the middle of a big economical crisis, civil guerrilla, risking bankruptcy I believe Spain is a country that sooner or later will have me as permanent guest. I felt good, I felt nice, I felt myself. And that’s something.


Not to mention that once a year the Sónar festival take place…

When in Rome

Ok, let’s be honest here, Woody‘s last movie was a total failure, a superficial, banal and full of stereotypes kind of movie lacking the irony and scathing satire present in most Italian postwar cinema and – the worst part – Rome’s beauty is not quite enough to hide its clichés.  So people, skip the movie and come here, in Rome, the real and only one, which is noting like the Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas.  Rome it’s power, it’s History, it’s strength.  But it’s also where the past casts its heavy shadows over everything. It’s like a rotting giant that still hasn’t drawn his last breath yet, blowing everywhere its mortal breath. But, at a certain point of the day, this dazzling sun goes down turning everything into gold and, for a moment, everything comes back to life. And it’s magic.  It’s a feeling you’ll never experience anywhere else.  Just here.  Just in this city with almost 3.000 yeas of history, layering quietly beneath your feet.

And suddenly you forgive and forget Romans’ rudeness, ignorance, overbearingness, coarseness, and essential crookedness.

But it’s just a fugitive moment, broken by some “ma va’ a mori’ ammazzato”***: Rome’s background music.

*** it’s a curse like “die you prick.”

And Rome it’s Antonello Venditti. Sorry for the undignified video…


The Five Stages of Grief – Le Cinque fasi dell’elaborazione del cordoglio

Death, divorce, job loss and moving are the top four stressors in studies that identify what stresses us out in life.  I’m not going to tell you, loving reader, which one has recently happened to me but here’s what I’m going throughout.


1. Denial: the “defense mechanism” step. “This can’t be happening, not to me”

2. Anger: the “misplaced feelings of rage and envy” step. “How can this happen to me?”

3. Bargaining: is a step where there’s the negotiation for an extended life is made with a higher power in exchange for a reformed lifestyle. “If I lose weight, he will come back”.

4. Depression: step with a kind of acceptance with emotional attachment. ” I’m not going to make it without…”

5. Hope: it’s the beginning to come to terms with the mortality, or that of a loved one, or other tragic event. “I can’t fight it, I may as well prepare for it.”


Morte, divorzio, licenziamento e trasloco sono le quattro ragioni di stress estremo che una persona può subire (o sopportare) secondo i più recenti studi. Caro lettore, non ti dirò quale fra questi mi è capitato di recente.  Ti posso però dire cosa sto passando.

1. Diniego: fase della negazione e rifiuto. «Non può essere vero»
2. Rabbia: paura e collera verso tutto ciò che ci circonda. «Perché proprio a me?»
3. Negoziazione: si inizia ad accettare la propria condizione imponendosi degli obiettivi per migliorarsi. «Se dimagrisco sarò più bella e rimpiangerà di avermi lasciata!»

4. Depressione: si capisce che si sta perdendo con un grande senso di sconfitta. «Non ce la farò mai senza…»

5. Accettazione: si accetta la propria condizione e si ricomincia da zero, o meglio si riprendono le redini della propria vita. «Ce la posso fare! Ce la posso fare! ce la faccio!»





Interviewing Debora Villa

So folks, here our first interveiw with a VIP!  Hope you will enjoy the humour of Debora Villa, a very popular comedian that recently released the book “Women chasing wolves. Everything you didn’t want to know about women that I can’t help but telling you.” for Cairo Publishing.

Mircea.  So, a book. Is this because you still believe into the piece of writing or it’s just a good marketing management of your popularity? And by the way, why the dog Latin chapters’ titles (which are a brainwave if you ask me, graduated in Humane Letters)?

Debora Villa. The choice is totally driven by my desire of doing so as everything I do. After the amazing success of my standup, we decided to put into a piece of writing our frenzy, widening chapters and contents. The dog Latins chapters’ titles are written by Antonio Amurri, who previously wrote “How to kill the wife and why.”

Mircea. Throughout the pages of your book, it seems that women are still looking for the Prince Charming to get settled, forever. Is this, still so rooted in our culture? Is all Walt Disney’s fault? And how should we get rid of it once and for all?

Debora Villa. Well, that’s a good question. To be honest I believe this quest is still really part of the culture of Italian women. So chronic that is causing deep, painful and apparently unsolvable frictions between the two genders. We wouldn’t be in such of a crisis if we didn’t have to uproot from our depths those archetypes. But we are working on that and, by the way, men too are tired of being asked and expected to play the knight’s role.  Time for the change has finally come… Yes girls, we can!

Mircea.  I was really perplexed by your description of the “groper”‘s accident. That is a real sexual harassment why did you write to have acted in such of a bland way?  Isn’t that some kind of legitimation for man to “try”, leaving to women only the chamaleon’s strategy:  stay still and camouflaged hoping not to be spotted by the predator? why not a public dramatic humiliation of the felon such of a verbal exposure or, why not, an old good fashion slap on his face?  Don’t you think to pass a message of tolerance for this “bad habit”?

Debora Villa. Well, in my “real” life I’ve been unfortunate enough to meet a lot of “maniac” and I quote the word since some of them were really sick, and the other part were unpunished pigs believing to own the right to abuse. I reacted as you described and even more! Into the “book reality” I just closed those episodes with a funny line to be consistant with the book tone. I’m an activist, I’ve been supporting a non-profit organization focused on domestic violences and my social and civil engagement is costant.

Mircea. Here in US “How to be a woman” by Caitlin Moran is all the rages. Have you red it yet? and if so, what do you think?

Debora Villa. What a coincidence! I’m actually reading it now! To be honest I just red the first chapter about “Period” and “Pornography” and I found it reeeeeelly interesting! That Caitlin is a great woman. I believe she’s unhinging all the traditional values to set new ones. Can’t wait to read it all.

Mircea. How important is for you to be a comedian as a woman? What’s your goal apart from paying the rent and surviving among “veline” (cheap Berlusconi’s style starlets)?

Debora Villa. I’m from Milano’s suburbia (ghetto). “The Bronx” to be clear. I was lucky enough to have irony and self-deprecating humor otherwise I wouldn’t be alive. I’ve also been lucky enough to make a job out of it, which I love. As a matter of fact I tried many other jobs but I was always ill. I can’t do anything else but this. And it’s not easy, I swear, since I’m not a “daughter of” neither a “protegée.”  And I like make people laugh on serious things and on nonsenses. I will do this till I live. Well, I pay back the good luck I had doing a lot of charities so I do TV, radio & Co. but then I work for free contributing to the causes that are dear to me.

Mircea. Wardrobe seasonal changing… Why it’s supposed to be a woman’s thing and why men’s aren’t apparently unable to do it?

 Debora Villa. There are things that will never change…

Mircea. There’s this popolar joke on the web “People say that every women’s dream is to find Mr. Right. Bullocks! every woman’s dream is to stuff themselves without putting on a pound”.  What do you think?

Debora Villa. Well, I’d say that’s so true!

Mircea. On a recent interviview you said you’d like to travel. That means you’ll come and visit us, brain drain abroad?

Debora Villa. It would be wonderful to be able to travel and bringing with me “the performance”.  I’m working on a French translation and I’m considering an English version too… I’m finally open to give it a try and I’m definetly willing to travel around the world.

Mircea. Abroad our reputations as Italian has never been this low, thanks to our politicians that did a great job promoting themselves as womanizer, pharisee, tax dodger, devoted to nepotism and so on (ex. Bossi’s jr. false degree). What do you suggest us to not be ashamed while walking around?

Debora Villa.  We have to own it and take control of it! If we are still allowing those people to run the Country, well, we have to say “I’m Italian, I live in the Middle Age but I’m sure that at a certain point the Renaissance will be back. Not that this “Govern of Technicians” is better with its saving banks, politician caste and rich people…

Mircea. Turning the tide: do you have a question for us?

Debora Villa. Why don’t you invite me to visit you?  whatch out… I may come





Nostalgia vs. Design

Nostalgia, according to the etymology, is the acute pain/desire to go back home (Antient Greek “nostos“: return home + “algos“: pain). Well, despite my living abroad I never felt this sentimental longing. For some reason I’m happier, more relaxed, even nicer to people. Not that UK, USA, or France are the Eden of my dreams but it’s where I feel that anything could happen if I want to and this feeling is priceless as fresh air to me, for everything else there’s Mastercard as they say. Drinking an iced skinny latte*** from the local coffe shop (run by indie guys all tatoo and eco-friendly goods) while strolling down at the weekly market (which, btw, is not full with chinese crap) browsing its hand-made bread, ice bream, cheese, ravioli or clothing is an experience almost too simple and fullfilling to describe.

But back to reality and killing snobbery I recently came across to another kind of bitchiness: the design bitch. She works for a middle weight design brand, she dresses only designer clothing (more likely bought at the sample sales where she is always able to squeeze in), she usually has long bleached hair and has this attitude that she’s right jumping the queue at the aperitivo table because she has business to do after having grabbed two glasses of prosecco–one for herself and the other for the very important person she’s with; so people, you are standing in her way, just move or she’s going literally and phisically to move YOU. Design bitch watch your back!  I don’t know how that happened! I never spilled my wine on other’s people cocktail dress!  Untill now. God I love design!

*** iced skinny latte: half mug full with ice + half cup of skim milk + 1 shot of espresso. Stir. Ready to drink.


This is a “sorry” kind of post

Hey guys, I’m busy. Very busy at the moment, preparing something big here in London so don’t feel neglected as I’m working for you, watching closely Mrs. Windsor-superboring-Kate-Middleton to report you everything I can note.  Apart from that, I’m also sick, which is not really nice when you have to meet people pretending to be 100% there.  Oh, I noticed that Kim Kardashian has recently gained an editorial on L’Uomo Vogue shooted by Mrs. Sozzani‘s son Mr. Francesco Carrozzini.  I don’t know what’s more deceivable: the fact that such a nobody like the Kardashian captured the attention of L’Uomo Vogue or that nepotism doesn’t have shame. In Italy at least. What’s next then? Thanks God Prada doens’t have any kids!  Can you imagine?  Her progeny could become, I don’t know, President?  And what about my (now former) fav. magazine ever? aka Monocle?

I’ve been so peeved recently, I mean, they published on they über cool “inventory” as “indipendent man” to look at Lapo Elkann.  Are they kidding?  That was personally insulting, like there’s no other young and cool Italian around the world actually worthing the attention of the magazine?  He’s the super-and-spoiled (and stupid, the basketball game Toronto vs. Lakers anyone?) son of the Italian dynasty FIATCrysler now playing the role of independent entrepreneur who’s started (yes, a start-up, hilarious) a company devoted to design.  Is Italian nepotism taking over even the UK straight back?

And with this disturbing question I’ll see you in a couple of days.

Photo Image Bank


So, it took me an entire week to recover from the Milanese design week full immersion.  It’s now gia-enormous!  Almost impossible to keep track of everything I’ve seen, everybody I’ve meet with, everything I’ve… ehm, drunk eaten. So, one night I had this VIM (Very Important Meeting) and since even my natural glow after a long winter of unnatural light exposure it’s a little bit vanished, I decided to take the risk and go to Sephora to have a make-up on the way.  I asked the make up artist, let’s call him mister Blush (how old was he? perhaps 17?), a very light and natural look for a meeting. So, after half an hour of work — and I believe 10 kg of products — he showed me my face: I looked like a business woman who take herself a way too seriously, so I asked the artist to take it a bit off.  And he did, I went to my appointment with the neat impression to have on a chalk mask on, and my ability to facial expression was severely reduced but in spite of that (and to high heels) I somehow managed the situation.  Later that night, when I was home, I tried to remove it.  Well, after half of bottle of make-up remover, billions of wads, and one shower my eyes were still presenting heavy traces of eye-liner that I was unable to clean. So I’ve had a lightbulb moment finally getting what “waterproof make-up” really is.  And that was THE moment of my exhausting design week.