Desperately Seeking Something

Or, shopping tales of woe from a mother-of-the-groom

Me before, during, and (usually) after shopping. Photo by Verne Ho on Unsplash

Cari amici,

Today, some light reading to temper the home-stretch pre-election anxiety and angst we’re all feeling (because it’s not only Americans who are holding their breath for this one).

My firstborn is getting married, a welcome announcement indeed. Yet along with joy, the news delivered dread—not because of the marriage itself, or the bride (love her, thank god!), or the travel planning and logistics I’d have to do. No, the problem—because I knew the task ahead would be daunting and could end less than satisfactorily—was finding something to wear. In my experience, Perugia is not a shopper’s paradise for anyone 1) without big bucks—unless you don’t mind cheap, sweatshop-made shit that looks ragged after two washings—or 2) who can’t fit into a garment, insultingly labeled XL, sized not for a normal woman (meaning one who enjoys an occasional pizza or double scoop of gelato) but for one of her thighs.

Though it’s a formal event, the wedding will be held outdoors in New England this month, meaning November, meaning lightweight fabrics and bare arms would be less than optimal. Fortunately, my daughter-in-law-to-be is relaxed about the attire of her two attendants and immediate family members, asking only that we aim to wear something dressy in darker jewel tones. Even an elegant pants ensemble would be fine, she said, endearing her to me forever. Armed with this info and a mood board of color schemes, I began my search.

The historic center of Perugia has devolved into two levels of clothing consumerism—high-end shops like Max Mara and Luisa Spagnoli and chain stores like Tezenis that don’t sell anything like what I needed. So I asked around. My plan was to go to an outlet mall in Tuscany, which I knew had plenty of dress shops, until my dentist told me about a store about 20 minutes from my house that has everything from sportswear to bridal attire, in a wide range of prices. That was to be my first stop until circumstance sent me driving past the outlet in Tuscany. Change of plans! Twelve or so stores later, I’d struck out.

A few days later I went to the recommended store, which indeed does have plenty of everything. Problem was, everything I liked style-wise was a dreary color and/or two sizes too small. This happens a lot in Italian stores—you find the perfect item, then discover that it (the only one they have) will fit, rather perfectly, a scrawny tween, which you most definitely are not. Often, what you see is what you get; no more sizes or colors lurk in the back, and that was true for this place. I left there feeling disgruntled that in a store where a dress can cost quite a few hundreds of euros there’s one dimly lit dressing room (for two people), with one tiny chair to dump your stuff on (if the other person didn’t get there first) and nowhere to hang your proposed purchases except the curtain rod. So that’s what I did, hoping the weight of six or eight garments wouldn’t bring the thing crashing down. Then, squinting at my murky reflection, I got down to the business of rejecting one outfit after another: too flashy, too trashy, too tight, too loose, too not-in-a-million-years.

See, there are rules¹ about shopping here, and none of them are good for the consumer.

1. If you find something you like and don’t buy it, it will be gone when you decide you do want it. Small stores = small inventory, and for the most part they don’t replenish their stock. I still think about a fuzzy cardigan sweater at Anilù I saw during one of the twice-yearly sales events. There were two of them. I hesitated, and then there were none.

2. If you buy it and change your mind, you will, 90 percent of the time, be forced to accept a buono (a voucher) in lieu of a refund. This means that if your intended purchase is in a shop you don’t normally frequent, you might want to think twice. Salespeople will swear they absolutely cannot give you a refund, though now and then, with the right combination of determination, belligerence, outrage, and pleading, you can convince them otherwise.

3. If you do some preliminary scouting on a store’s website, then search for the item you want in the “find it in a store” field and it says it’s available near you, don’t get too excited. Because when you go to the store, whatever was supposed to be there will not be there. This isn’t because it was sold in the interim; it’s because the employees or AI/algorithms that maintain store inventory databases are unconcerned with accuracy and have, perhaps, a limited grasp on timeliness. I’ve had this experience in electronics and home furnishings stores too, so don’t think if you’re not shopping for clothes it can’t happen to you.

4. Wool-intolerant people shall be punished. Cashmere is a king in the province of Perugia. Okay, yes, you can find linen and linen blends, but that’s summery stuff. Cotton is a rarity. Nearly every winter garment has some amount of wool in it, and if it doesn’t, it’s made of viscose, acrylic, or polyester. Viscose is a mixed bag; some of it’s nice and some is truly awful. Crappy stores like [insert name of mega retail chain here] toot their “we’re saving the planet” horns about using recycled polyester, which pills the minute you wear it.

Back to my search. I cruised the stores on Perugia’s main drag, Corso Vannucci, even venturing into some whose prices and/or styles had previously kept me away. Everything I liked or that seemed remotely possible was black or brown, not a jewel tone in sight. In one very pricey store, a flimsy khaki-colored dress with cream-and-olive grosgrain trim for around €1000 did not give me hope.

Borderline desperate, I searched online and found a brand that had some promising-looking options. I ordered one dress in two colors and two sizes. Ugh. Searched again, ordered a different one. Even worse. Ye gods! The wedding was coming up in less than a month!

Just when I was considering extending my search to Rome or to one of the big outlets near there, a friend told me about the Luisa Spagnoli outlet right here in Perugia. The “regular” store on Corso Vannucci is one of those whose prices scare me, and I haven’t been blown away by what I’ve seen displayed there over the years. I felt little hope, but off to the outlet I went. Desperate times call for desperate measures, amirite?

And lo and behold, will wonders never cease, I have a new favorite store! Not only did I find a wedding outfit, but a little black dress too. And, for one week only, which in an unusual stroke of luck was the week I went there, all at 30 percent off the outlet prices. Score!

I guess this means I’ll have to stop badmouthing Perugia’s shopping scene. But I can’t give the Luisa Spagnoli outlet all the credit—a few years ago, at the Saturday market, I bought a full-length black wool coat in pristine condition. For €1. Really.

Tante belle cose, alla prossima—

Cheryl

PS: Some good news!

An excerpt from my as-yet-unpublished novel How Long a Shadow has been published in issue 35.2 of VIA: Voices in Italian Americana. You can look through the table of contents and/or buy a copy here. Scroll down to “Past Issues,” find Issue 35.2 (actually the current issue), and click on “Contents” or “Order Journal.”

Italian phrase of the day

fare la frittata—1. to shatter something fragile; 2. to make an irreparable mistake; 3. to make a mess

Book of the day

I can’t always link books and poems to what I’m writing about, so to heck with that; you’ll get whatever I feel like recommending. I’m often late to the party, so my latest faves may be old news for some of you.

• The People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks. In a fascinating braided tale of present and past, a book conservator works on an ancient manuscript, then investigates its past, creating a narrative structure in which readers learn the stories of the people who had a hand in the book’s survival over the centuries.

Poem of the day

• “Knowledge” by Phillip Memmer

---

P.S. My book! Which you can buy here or on the usual sites, or, better yet, order it from your local bookstore. Another fab option is to ask your library to stock it. If you read it and like it, please tell your friends and/or leave a few lines of praise on any bookish site. You’d be surprised how much a rating or review helps authors. Baci!

1. As always, I’m writing about my experiences in my corner of Italy. YMMV.