lounge pant

Midsummer magic descends on the Amalfi Coast: a sun-bleached movie montage of scenes from an Italian summer, sketched in impossible colours and endless horizons. Faded beach umbrellas stretch as far as the eye can see, hot sand, sunkissed skin and vintage-hued buildings weaving a tiled memoir of yesterday, today and tomorrow. Dolce far niente.The sweetness of nothing stretches well into sunset.Here, in Italy, I am vibrant and boundless. No plans, just possibilities. Every wrong turn is a detour in the right direction and every misstep is just more magic waiting to happen.In the backstreets of Rome, I scribble love notes to myself and the world on cobblestones and napkins. I unfurl beneath painted ceilings, flanked by flocks of doting cherubs. In Milan, I dance to street musicians playing my song and play the muse for poets and artists.My hair curls and crinkles fresh out of the Amalfi every morning. I leap from too-high rocks into the endless ocean and charm my way onto the backseat of a stranger’s vespa. From Ravello to Positano, to Capri and to Sorrento. An infinite loop of summer sensations.My Italy, Amore Mio.