|Game faces on!|
There are two best times to shop in Italy and those are January and June when, by law, it is finally sales time. You haven't shopped until you've hurdled over a baby carriage, ducked under the coats of a couple of elderly lady friends in fur, and pulled a muscle in your shoulder to get to the hanger with your name on it just before a high heeled, well-coiffed adversary wearing glittery sunglasses could get her D&G red talons on it.
|That glistening effect is known as shopping glow.|
|Desperate Shophives: a new show idea?|
|Not your ordinary trek to the mall.|
|I am in awe of your vast sale knowledge.|
|Carlo actually hates shopping. But he is a smooth driver!|
The police were signaling that all of the cars had to detour so all of us shoppers had to walk through the mud and thistles for a good while to reach the village from the parking lot. T about lost her mind a portata di mano di Prada, Missoni, Guess, and Masssimo Rebecchi. We ate crappy mall store pizza, and it was the first bad tasting thing I've eaten in over a year here. Adonella has a take no prisoner's approach, but back in Lucca I finally got the last pair of studded leather converse that I have had my eye on for about eight months and it was extremely satisfying. Now we have to wait another six months for materialistic, frenzied drunken acquiring of stuff. And that is probably just as well.