Milan strikes me as a city not designed for rain.
The Chanel glasses that cover many fashionista’s faces are suddenly rendered useless and appear too posey, the miniature dogs found on the end of leads belonging to men who go for manicures look sad and grumpy and have wet feet. Street after street is dulled and appears a shadow of it’s former self with all the lure and colour washed down to halftones and quiet.
Design week does not lend itself well to this. It is hard to imagine the gravitas of the sharp suited Italian gentlemen breezing through Zona Tortona in light drizzle. The crisp white spaces are suddenly cold and silent. I myself want nothing more than to curl up with a good book in the corner of a tiny smoke filled pub, but sadly it’s also a Sunday. The shuttered shops, and closed cafes look as though they are protesting against the dismal greyness of an overcast sky. They will open again tomorrow, and let us pray (it is Sunday after all) it’s to a more inspiring shade of blue.
Text : Emily McGeevor