Since the beauty of Tuscany’s rolling hills and ancient cities has been written about ad nauseum, we’ll just mention a few of our observations during our travels through Italy this time around.
Puffy pants – Fashion here is quite a bit different than back in the States, but far and away the most eye catching, head turning, “Oh my god, how is she wearing that?!” trend is puffy genie pants. You’d think that it was 1991 again due to the widespread adoption of these nouveau hammer bottoms. To our untrained eyes, it’s hard to fathom why so many young women have chosen a fashion akin to wearing an adult diaper under a potato sack. You be the judge.
Cooking and Eating– Food seems to be the center of Italian life. Do you want to buy something between the hours of 1:30 and 4:00? No dice – all the stores are closed because every one is at home cooking lunch from scratch. Look in any given pantry and you’ll see jars of mama’s secret tomato sauce or grandmother’s preserved something or other tucked away…light years better than anything at your local supermarket. Every homemade dinner we’ve eaten here has made our lame ass cooking attempts seem like Chef Boyardee.
Queuing –After the first hour in Italy, it was abundantly clear that Italians have their own system of waiting. Whether it be at customs, getting onto a bus, or trying to enter a museum, the general rule of thumb is a push to the front, no-holds-barred, every man (or old woman as is often the case) free for all. The most aggressive wins…extra points for throwing out elbows.
These observations are based on our 10 day blitzkrieg trip through Italy, so if you find any of them incorrect or offensive, our bad.
Shit, I’m breaking out some hammer pants and bringing it back to the US, Italian style.
Oh, those fashion-forward Italians. Of course they instantly hopped on the India train with those crazy pants. France, of course, was there last year.
I hope you prepared for the queue situation by taking the 30-Stockton before you left.
Food? No snarky comments there. Italy must rock. On par with France, I’m sure.
No pizza on the street corner?
Ha! We’ve been seeing these all over the place but we call them “shit pants.” Glad someone else is finding those wretched things funny!