I'm too sexy for Milan

Jen has given us plenty of information about Italy over the half-year or so, but she saved the most terrifying until almost the very end.  A week before our trip, as we start packing our clothes, she tells us all: “The Italians are very fashionable people.  They don’t think much of people who dress sloppy. ”  

                I know how crazy you all think Jen is, but her story somewhat checks out.  The other night she and I went to our town’s newest (and fanciest) restaurant and we saw a fellow localite who said her family was going to Italy this year, too, and that her daughter insisted on going first  to Milan to buy lots of clothes.  Not Venice for the boats.  Not Pisa for the leaning tower.  Not anywhere for linguini.  Straight to the fashion capital to outfit herself for the rest of the trip.  The girl is nine.  So yeah, the Italians are clothes crazy.

                This is cause for concern.  I’m not saying that several of us Pavliks don’t think we’re pretty snappy dressers, but Jen had to drop a real bomb on us: “Nobody wears shorts in Europe.  If you wear shorts they’ll think you’re an American tourist.” This statement sure sent ripples through our family.   Many of us self-styled snappy dressers rely heavily on the short pants and sandals look.  Just last week, on the first sunny day of spring, Nadia was ready to trade in all her winter clothes for one pair of shorts and a tank top.  That was all she’d need until December, she said.

                But none of us wants to be lumped in with rude American tourists, me possibly the least.  And as it stands, I think I’m the one who’s in most danger of being singled out. 

Here’s why.  After several hours of fretting over shortslessness, the rest of the family got a reprieve.  Jen managed to explain that modestly long skirts would be comfortable and stylish, and they’ll likely be acceptable in all the famous old churches we’ll find ourselves in.  The Italians really go in for skirts, Jen says.  On women. 

Here we get a sense of the nature of the problem. Sure, day-glow yellow
shorts, white socks and black shoes were fine in Crimea 20 years ago  –
otherwise why would Kathleen, Axwig and this unidentified Ukrainian
young woman been walking the streets of Yalta with me.  But I’ll have to
shift my style to adjust to a more discerning fashion culture in Western Europe.

                I will have to walk the medieval streets of Lucca and Siena the way Columbus himself did, in chinos (flat-front, of course.  History shows it was Columbus who began the arduous work of undermining the Native American tradition of pleated pants).  I don’t think I’ll risk jeans, even.  Pickpocket magnets, those are.  I can wear a bathing suit for swimming – go ahead, conjure up an image of me wearing a European-style speedo, that still won’t make it happen.  And anyway, regardless of my style of suit, don’t expect me to come home with a leg tan.

                I do at least have some snazzy shirts to bring along, including a nice red and black number that I got at Easter.  The Italians will eat that one up.  I think I’ll risk the pickpockets a few times by wearing my US soccer shirt.  Rude Americans don’t wear soccer shirts, I’ll venture.  So I should be ok.  Also I have a money belt.

That’s right, I’ve been to Yalta.  And I rode the bumper cars
there with Dave Baxter.

                My wardrobe will be nothing like Zoe’s, who has already packed a range of dresses, skirts and colorful capris.  Nadia might fare the best of all, because she’s got a sense of style that is pretty well-developed (although she could not convince Jen – even with the unlikely backing of Grandma – that her leggings should be worn without a skirt or long shirt to cover her bottom).  At any given time, Lanie will likely have on multiple shades of pink and a disarming grin, so I’m not worried about her.  

                It’s me who’s most likely to cause an international sartorial incident.  Wish me luck and send fashion advice.