Stato di emergenza – État d’émergence 

Venerdì 13, un veritabile giorno nero. Partito bene a Livorno con una mattinata dal parrucchiere con mia madre e una partenza in orario per ritrovare la mia bambina. A casa, sistemando le valigie, la scoperta della mia borsa di Vuitton mancante, che avevo lasciato a casa proprio per non rischiare aggressioni alle stazioni… La rabbia, perché ho grossi sospetti e non sulla mia distrazione. Comunque il cercare di non pensarci e passare una buona serata in famiglia tra lo Stars’n’Bars e poi il luna Park. Un passaggio dal McCarthy’s, deserto a mezzanotte. E lì ci viene riferito l’orrore che dal ristorante sembrava distrattamente una discesa in campo di un pubblico agitato come a volte capita – tipo la partita del Milan a Marsiglia dalla quale la squadra si ritirò prendendo una sospensione. E invece….si tratta del secondo orrore concertato da questi pazzi (il primo, sempre nell’invivibile Parigi, il 7 gennaio) che adesso con gravità meritano di avere una guerra dichiarata – e un’eliminazione impietosa. È un 11 settembre che dichiara la relativa guerra dal nostro territorio. È inevitabile. Inevitabile schierarsi con la Russia a sostenere il regime di Al Assad senza schierarsi contro, perché questo é il nostro blocco. Pensavo che questo venerdì 13 avesse colpito me, ma ha colpito il mondo. Stiamo vivendo un orrore e lo riporto in prima persona dallo Stato in cui ho deciso di rimanere a vivere, 3 mesi fa. E adesso ho paura, e tutto ciò che vorrei sarebbe tornare in Toscana vicina ai miei cari (tra l’altro percepisco una risalita dell’Italia e la risurrezione del mio adorato Silvio, anche se non mi sento così insoddisfatta dell’attuale premier) o emigrare davvero fuori dall’Europa: Israele (li almeno i servizi segreti funzionano e si spara senza esitazione contro gli arabi), la Russia (fa un po’ freddo, ma é più inaccessibile e senza pietà), gli Stati Uniti. Tutto il resto é noia di fronte allo stringersi per non perdersi. Allego diversi articoli dell’Huffington post in italiano e in francese:

Parigi sotto attacco dell’Isis: colpiti Bataclan, stadio e ristornati. Almeno 158 morti, secondo Cnn. Hollande: “Risponderemo in modo spietato”


Lucia Annunziata: L’Europa è diventato il luogo più pericoloso dell’Occidente. Aspettiamoci di tutto


Attentati Parigi, Matteo Renzi riunisce intelligence: “Controlli intensificati su tutta Italia”

Attentats à Paris : le récit de la terrible soirée


EN DIRECT – Attaques à Paris: l’évolution de la situation au lendemain des fusillades meurtrières qui ont fait au moins 120 morts


François Hollande décrète un deuil national de trois jours et convoque le Congrès


Je t’attends mon amour, jamais plus tu partiras à Chamonix sans moi, l’idée d’être séparés dans cet Etat si dangereux m’epuvante desormais, j’ai tellement envie de trouver une solution et de vivre notre vie…. Les barrières ont été fermées, tu dormais donc tu t’es réveillé avec celle du Mon Blanc réouverte; mais j’ai doutée de ton voyage aujourd’hui, et d’une autre nuit loin de toi car desormais dans cet etat de guerre il n’y a rien de plus important qu’être ensemble, et s’aimer. Les plans à faire sont de plus en plus urgents. 


All the women of the president


There’s nothing more to say about the discovered affaire of the french president Francois Hollande, caught sneaking on a scooter – driven by a bodyguard, hidden by his helmet- at his lover’s house, Julie Gayet, 150 yards from the Élysée palace. The loving boy was seen by a photographer of the gossip magazine Closer that sold for the occasion thousands of copies and put the news under the visibility of the world. I’ve done the exam of political communication this morning, and it’s mostly about presidents and their images, their variations in the popularity curve. The personal image contributes with the political image to form the global one. Scandals contribute visibly to change our favorability toward the presidents, not touching the judgement on their job approval; or at least, so it happened to Bill Clinton who was so able to separe the matter of his infidelities – the president’s personal life – and how he was working as executive organ of the USA. The sexgate involving Monica Lewinsky in 1998 was the cherry on the cake, as before he had the cases Jennifer Flower (he admitted, they even had a long relationship) and Paula Jones (he never admitted but gave her almost 1million $). Anyway, even after the encounters in the so called “oral room” with Monica and an impeachment procedure he managed to maintain a 70% popularity. First Lady Hillary stayed at his side and in 2008 tried to defuse her ultra liberal image. In America private life is highly considered, due to sociological and political factors – prevalence of a Puritan mind, the monocratic figure visibly internationally ruling, and a journalism that doesn’t watch anybody’s eyes having the only criterium is the “newsworthy”-. In european democracies the model of journalism is based on collateralism: a model of interaction between media and politic actors based on a keen attitude of the former toward the firsts. So it was with Mitterrand, who could grow an adolescent daughter had in an extra-marital relationship without the media daring to let go the news public. Who could be so foolish to criticize a politician who has well loved (look at the Act of the Apostle Luke, when Jesus forgives a prostitute because of this very reason)? To make him risk is career for personal affairs? I am afraid to say that judgements are always made upon everything, we like scandals -even of we pretend not- in everyday life, and making the royal figures of presidents ridiculous make everyone smile… We use to forget that they’re human, attempted universities, made steps quite commons. Normal impulses have still to be hidden, it’s no more like when the lovers of the kings of France where widely known and respected. Let’s quote Madame De Pompadour -Luis XV’s lover- who took the champagne into Versailles and helped in the creation of l’Encyclopédie. Lights have never touched America, the star Marylin Monroe was probably killed because of her secret relationship with John Kennedy; almost fifty years later we saw what could have happened -if they were still alive of course. Quite mysterious and intriguing those stories, aren’t they? The fact is: these women make life colorful, today more than the presidents themselves we remember their lovers – with spicy details included. Hollande for instance was known to be the husband of Ségolène Royal, mother of four and candidate at 2007 elections against Sarkozy. She came before him, she’s smarter and more charismatic -even if a socialist. But that pagliaccio of the husband dumped her after almost 7 years of cheating with Valérie Trierweiler -Paris Match journalist bitchy pretending she was friend of the couple-. As we Italians say <<Chi la fa l’aspetti>> and that one is now hospitalized for the shock caused by the cheating of the companion. Even worst, as though she’s not the wife, she can’t be sure to go to Washington visiting Obama the 7th of february. The decision of which woman is up to the president. I smile more than any Italian and French: as Italian, French and everybody else should finally stop pointing the finger against Berlusconi’s bunga bungas and even bow at them -villa,champagne, huge parties, beautiful women…made public. Who on hearth wouldn’t like to express his power like this? Power goes hand to hand with a rich love life, not to say else- ; as a French, are you regretting Sarkozy, are you? Hollande is the most unpopular president of the Vth republic, so unpopular that apparently he even gained in popularity: at least he sneaks to f***k! But still, when it’s about Italians, we’re way ahead. My opinion is that blaming scandals is stupid, everybody should be free to do what he wants and especially presidents: high powers high responsibilities. I was wondering even on the fact that in the US the most conservatives are republicans,  they excell in negative campaigns: in 2000 Karl Rove, Bush’s consultant, planned pushpolls in North Carolina concerning the black daughter of republican adversary McCain -while it’s wasn’t even true, she was adopted!- and so he won. Stupid levels of conservatorism… Misunderstanding its meaning. In Europe the right  preaches conservatorism in the senses of values, respect of women, the right to life etc… The left preaches freedom in a larger sense: it’s favorable to gays’ marriages and adoptions (brrr, will go back on this), interrupting pregnancies and a large dose of boring intellectualism. Berlusconi entered the politic right area founding his party Forza Italia preaching catholic values and still this image is in our minds even if now we know he likes to party in another proper sense; but l wonder why blaming him, he has five sons and still respects his ex wife giving her a crazy amount of money PER DAY (46000€).  His business as a big fish in the cathegory of MEN is done: gaining money then having honey. The world has to go on in all its possible meanings and finally left wing has to take responsibility that their esponents are humans too, not marionnettes -ooops sorry mr Hollande, I’m going to include one hilarious photo of you, to stigmatise the importance of the factor physique du rôle… I am still  shaking for the intensity of your presidency and the charisma you show even in simple discurses like the one of the ending of the year, already registered-.






Culture, Food, Lifestyle, Places

About local markets and multiculturalism

Local international markets, that’s one of my favourite contradictions. Those markets discoverable only by chance or by sentito dire, that grow like mushrooms in different spots of the city, different by themes and products sold but similar and each unique for that unique melting pot of the sellers. And unique because in those special days there’s a nice courious crowd in the spot: families, friends, couples, single persons that bear a smile on their faces in trying and tasting foreign,genuin products. Then,discussions or coups de foudre about the picture of a special dinner, suggestions on how to eat these delicacies… even I could be a good chef like this! Brussels is unbeatable about food, l place this city even over Italy: as capital of the European Union there are all kind of national cuisines for all the exigences. There you go for luxury, Michelin stars’ awarded restaurants (eg, Belga Queen) to everyday-delicious places. The smell of  delicacies and beer is always in the air. I’m not going to stop in a too long list that would took me hours, l was simply talking about markets. And l recalled Brussels because actually two of the best internationals (and l am talking of an international cradle) were really close to my beloved home: sunday morning in Place Flagey and wednesday afternoon in Place de la Chatelaine. The latter in particular was my favourite, l haven’t missed a walk there since when l first discovered its existence. The neighborhood – my neighboorhood- is antique and picturesque, and it’s not a case if it’s called “little Paris” for all the lights along the little streets opening up on the square. A single girl with boring, unsimpathetic and unfunny flatmates suffers longing to buy everything with the only imagination either to get fat alone either to forget everything in the fridge. So, as long as l remember just once i managed to prepare myself a goat cheese salad without the salad, ergo with frozen green beans  (I love eating as much l hate have a good dish alone or have to eat it two times, so I found smarter to fill the freezer. My parents were shocked once they found in june the same prosciutto they gave me in february). It was not really the eating part, but the chatting and discovering one. And of course, cocktail hour there. Not take-away, but enjoy-the-moment-in-the-place. When cheering in the crowd, it’s better not to take pictures, so the ones in the link below could have been taken by me on the solitary walk part.


So, can you imagine how happy l was to discover that in Livorno for a weekend we had an international market of that stile (less elegant but still..!) ? Another motto of mine is: “If you don’t come to the world, the world comes to you”. Two  weekends ago l had the belgian friends; last one I cought the colourful world with my friend Laura,talking with different people of different nationalities: russians, dutchs, brasilians, spanish, irish, french… I was so impressed and happy to meet those people: real travellers with real stories, smiling and partying even though working. Sunday evening many of them were about to go back to their refurnishment spot soon after with a long drive, to be ready to be on thursday in Grosseto or elsewhere. A big camion contains their office, then they’re free to go where they want. My dearest friends there have been the french, and whoever stops in a special market like this one in Italy should try Vincent’s biscuits. He’s a true breton defending the cause that French Riviera is not France because there’s no french people anymore but italians, russians, arabians etc. His biscuits are like his ideas: originally french. Here’s the link of his site http://www.biscuiterie-de-kerlann.com/index.php?idpage=1&idarticle=45. I had the fortune to visit Bretagne when l was little,- and little by little many regions of that beautiful country-, but l am glad to see that wherever l go and live, France is not far and by far those biscuits are like the ones l had locally when I was a child. Here’s a photo taken in Mont Saint-Michel, in Normandie.


Je ne veux pas traduire ce post en italien car je devrais d’abord le traduir en français pour la joie que j’ai d’utiliser cette langue et pour la supremacie que je lui donne parmis toutes les autres. Donc desolée pour mes compatriotes mais ce post va rester dans la langue que mon coeur aurait choisi  s’il aurait pu.

Fashion, Places

Les défauts de Louis (Vuitton) en Patrie


Cette année je suis retournée à Paris après trop d’années d’éloignement (3). Ayant déjà fait la touriste auparavant dans les incontournables,- voire Tour Eiffel, musées du Louvre et d’Orsay, places des Vosges, de Tertre, Vendôme et Concorde, Notre-Dame, les Champs-Elysées, l’arc de triomphe, l’hôtel des Invalides, Montmartre avec la basilique du Sacré-Coeur, Panthéon, palais du Luxembourg, l’Opéra Garnier […]-, cette fois je voulais vraiment me jeter dans les inexplorées, ou bien marcher pour me perdre, tomber dans les suggestions mondaines. J’avais bien des idées mais en me promenant sur le Champs-Elysées je suis tombée à nouveau sur La Boutique (remarquez le majuscule) et cette fois-ci pour intégrer j’ai achetée une guide. Elle commence comme ça: P_20131009_125136

Adresses classiques et à la mode!? Ma per piacere!!!  Il y auraient trois lignes sur les endroits que j’ai nommée; pour le reste je ne me prononce pas mais je me limite modestement à rajouter ce que je retiens incontournable, ce que j’ai découvert et ce que la majorités des mes amies parisiens connaît bien plus. À vous de juger si je suis pretencieuse et je devrait taire ces lacunes,si je dit des bêtises ou bien si quand même je dit quelque chose d’innovatif…

– Hôtel Ritz (15, Place Vendôme). Non seulement comme le Hyatt (qui différemment est nommé) c’est extrêmement luxueu, mais à différence de celui-ci il a le charme d’avoir été set dans le film “How to steal à million” (1966, starring Audrey Hepburn) et tristement plus récemment le dernier endroit qui a aubergé Lady Diane.

– Hôtel Costes (239, rue Saint Honoré). Restaurant, apéro, café….  L’élégance y règne, the place to be of this century!

– Restaurant le Relais de Venise (Porte Maillot), mieux connu comme “L’Entrecôte” du moment que après l’attente (ils l’acceptent pas des réservations et pourtant dans toutes les saisons il y aura toujours une quais pour enfin brusquement être amenée dans la première table disponible) il y a à choisir que le vin et la cuisson. Mais la salade avec le noix et l’ Entrecôte sont digne d’être uniques, surtout pour le mystère qui entoure la sauce en accompagnement…

– Restaurant Lipp (boulevard Saint-Germain).  Dans un célebre resocompte de la campagne presidentielle du 1981, le consulente d’image de Mitterrand Séguéla rappellait comme le candidat socaliste avait refusé un passage en limousine dans ce restaurant, ou il avait une interview pre électorelle.

– Restaurant Avenue (41, Avenue Montaigne). Même gestion du Costes avec vue sur la rive Gauche.

– Buddha Bar (Faubourg Saint Honoré)

– Petits restaurants arabes dans le Marais

– Night Club l’Arc

– Night Club Raspoutine (58 rue de Bassano)

– Pigalle, Moulin Rouge.

– Église de Saint Catherine Labouré (Saint Gérmain). Célèbre pour les medailles miraculeuses que la Vierge avais indiquées dans son apparition.

Cimetière du Père-Lachaise. Rejoignable aisément en métro, c’est le cimetière plus grand et charmant du monde je pense (44 hectare, il faut une mappe pour trouver les tombeaux) et portant dans chaque secteur il y a quelc’un qui a laissée une trace dans l’histoire, surtout à niveau artistique. En particulier moi je voulais rendre hommage à Edith Piaf, Amedeo Modigliani, Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison.

– Snack de luxe chez Angelina et la Pistacherie.

– Hermès (Faubourg Saint-Honoré). Comment ne pas parler de ses foulards qui pourrait être des tableaux?! Peut être parce que il n’ y a pas de concurrence possible sur ça… Dans le 2007 mon père m’a donnée la première gavroche: le nom étais un programme vu que “la tour Eiffel s’envole c’est véritablement envolée en scooter.

– Disneyland Paris (!)

– Versailles (!)

C’est énorme comment je pourrait continuer même sur des petits détails, là je pense d’avoir noté les gros en  gros quand même. Quelque photos pour finir en douceur.


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Louis Vuitton je t’aime mais j’ai d’autres passions à défendre, sorry… moi j’adore la France et Paris, par contre ta guide de Rome est bien meilleure!!