anitadb's blog

from the uploading page:
“take a full body shot with good lightning and make sure the photo isn’t pixelated or grainy”

(No, i didn’t mean to go against the rules. It’s just that my dad was feeling very “artistic”. )

my poor camera is dead. It might have something to do with my forgetting it outside in the rain for 2 days, but we’ll have to wait for the autopsy. However, the lack of camera didn’t stop me from showing off the new stuff i bought this month: good old pencil never breaks!
pic 1: yoox stuff: red dress + tiny blue stripes = purple dress ( plus hypnotic tuning-tv stripes effect). I love korean necklines.
The bright blue sheer cardigan with pockets looks very cool to me, but my dad instantly baptized it “the pajama top”.
pic 2: my Italian after-war housewife dress. Found at the flea market for 3 €, it looks like it was tailor made for me. Had it been 1 inch tighter, i wouldn’t be able to close the zip. The silly floral pattern and the synthetic material might suggest it was made out of a shower curtain by a modern Scarlett O’Hara, but it makes me look like i have big boobs and the tiniest waist, so , who cares!
pic 3: my new york purchases : i didn’t really feel like shopping in new york. What’s wrong with me? The only stuff i bought was merely functional, because it was mad cold but i had packed only sundresses because i thought june would be hot enough. The circle scarf saved my lungs from serious damage.

Orsola wrote she didn’t like this year’s Salone very much. I went there as well, but i was so happy to be in Milan and see my old friends that i really wasn’t very picky about the exhibitions.
Coming from my town (which by the way is not Preganziol nor Villorba nor any of the random places that appear under my photo – does it happen to you? i’ve never changed the location in my profile but chictopia randomly chooses them for me), coming from my small, boring, uncool town, a trip to Milan Design Week is a giant glass of fresh water. The cafès full of creative blond people from northern Europe, the amount of well dressed men and women, the definite lack of tacky logo handbags made me want to dance in the streets (luckily the icy rain stopped me).
I really wanted to try the giant cow rocking-sofa but the queue was too long.

last friday i went out of the house, crossed the garden, opened the car door, and freezed. Something was looking at me. A dog. It was standing 10 metres behind the car, and neither of us knew if the other had friendly intentions.
“Who the hell are you, dog? How did you get here?”
The back gate was open, so it had probably come through the fields. My voice sounded friendly enough, because the dog walked towards me with a happy face. I don’t particularly like dogs. I don’t like the smell, the drool.. cats are soft and fluffy, and most of all they don’t jump on your brand new silk skirt with muddy paws.
But this dog looked so sweet and happy to see me, that i had to touch it. I went back in to call my grandparents in case they had heard of a missing dog among the neighbours, but nobody answered. When i went out again, the dog was sitting in the car waiting for me, as if we had driven around together every day for years. I was a bit sad that i had to leave to work, i wanted to keep the dog in the garden until i came back, but he kept following my car out the gate and i didn’t want him to be crushed on the road. I had to close him out of the back gate. He didn’t say anything, he just followed me as i showed him out, and disappeared in the fields.
I still hope he comes back.

meet my new Dior sunglasses, courtesy of a very distracted customer who forgot them in my shop. I was a good girl and kept them in the drawer for a month, just in case somebody came back to claim them. Nobody did, so i decided they’re officially mine. What’s that face? You would do the same. What should I do, put an ad on the paper like “has anybody lost a pair of black dior sunglasses? call this number”

I had planned a nice easter picnic in the woods at my place, but my friends would rather sit at home in their ugly town because “it’s not worth moving my ass if we’re not going to a really nice place, like the sea or the mountains”. Friends know how to make you feel good.

My friend Maggie came, and took the photos. You know that kind of girl, we all have a friend like her. She is beautiful, a genius biotech scientists, has studied in the US, has a wealthy, happy family. Male friends: 1,000,000. Girl friends: unknown.
I’m guilty, i hated her too before i knew her. But since she turned out to be actually nice, active, never complaining, never doing bitchy gossip, i totally love her. Besides, i think hanging out with the beautiful makes you look better rather than worse, because you’re pushed to put more effort in looking good.

meet Nicola, my guitar teacher. I’d never post a photo of somebody else without asking, but a drawing doesn’t count, does it?
Think of Antonio Banderas, only taller, younger, and a total guitar god. Eh, life is hard.

“….”
“Well? Anita, why did you stop playing?”
“I stopped?”
“Yes, you just stopped in the middle of the song and stared at me blankly.”
“I – I’m sorry.”
“Let’s start again from the chorus”