Holiday Gift Guide: Italian Swimsuits and Designer Pochettes
WHY YOU SHOULD CARE
Because sometimes what you don’t need is what you crave the most.
By Silvia Marchetti
Part of OZY’s 2016 holiday gift guide, in which our staffers and contributors clue you in on what they want to give and what they want to get.
Silvia Marchetti is a Rome-based freelance reporter whose last article in Italian was 13 years ago. She covers a bit of everything — from finance and economics to travel and culture — for several global publications. When she’s not traveling, swimming, researching crazy food and habits or stalking intriguing people around Italy, she’s playing with her Rottweiler Jezz and daydreaming about Jason Momoa. The only thing she can’t live without is the salty scent and breeze of Italy’s sea.
Give: Sex-Mood Skivvies
Now, who hasn’t drooled over a poster showing a hot model clad in a pair of skin-tight boxers with a huge flashy label sticking out of his jeans? The brand just makes him yummier. That’s why I’d love to give my lover a set of seven designer boxers for each day of the week: Monday D&G, Tuesday Armani, Wednesday Calvin Klein, Thursday Ferragamo, Friday Burberry, Saturday Gucci and Sunday Louis Vuitton (from $74, zalando.it). In that way, I can shout to him which brand I’d want him in according to my sex mood: D&G if I feel wild, Ferragamo if I want it stylish, Burberry if I want it more sober, slow and quiet. Italians have a saying: “Tell me what panties you wear and I’ll tell you what man you are.” But now it would be more like: “I’ll tell you which panties to wear, you show me what kind of hunk you are.”
Give: A Designer Puppy Poo Pochette
The first time I saw it, I felt like buying a Chihuahua just for the sake of showing it off, even though I already have a Rottweiler. “It” being a pink leather Swarovski “doggy pochette” (from $42, bautique.com) to hold those little plastic bags you use to scoop up his/her poo when it takes a dump. Translation: a designer backpack for my dog. It looked like a posh Prada clutch that matched the owner’s elegant handbag. Just another accessory, like an umbrella or hat, as if the dog itself was a fashion extension of the owner. Since a small dog can be brushed and washed each day, pampered like a child star with perfume, shampoo and conditioner, I’d go all nine yards: gift the poo pochette along with a matching Swarovski collar, leash and doggy hairpins that glitter at night.
According to Annamaria Verdi, a Rome-based personal shopper, the coolest of all gifts is the doggy poo pochette: “It turns the pet into a catwalk star, a canine model, satisfying at the same time the consumerist and narcissist tics of the owner who sees her own beauty and fashionable clothes reflected on her animal.”
My aunt would love it: She spends $800 to have her little Maltese baby get a dental cleaning once a year.
Give: High-Tech Earrings
I hate men who walk on the street talking on mobiles via James Bond–wannabe wireless earphones. Ladies too should have special treatment, especially those like me who don’t wear any dangling stones or gold in their ears. So a set of shiny wireless earphones that look like a pair of fashionable earrings (from $13, aliexpress.com) but are actually microphones kills two birds: the communication–slash–music addiction and the wannabe fancy-lady look. Both little diamond studs or golden loops do the trick. Once the phone conversation or the evening cocktail is over, ears are free again. There’s only one little problem: You really, really might look like you’re talking to yourself.
Get: Towels. All of the Towels
Aka more towels. I love water and I’m a hygiene freak. So towels are like shoes to me: There should be one for each need or occasion. Problem solved with a set of seven bathroom towels that match my different body parts: one for the feet, hands, face, entire body, lower parts, hair and armpits to wash myself piece by piece like a puzzle in case I don’t want to take a full shower. My gran always used to say that wiping my face with the same towel I use to dry my hands could cause infection. If that’s true, what happens if I use the same towel for the lower and upper ends? I want towels of different material and colors too, to better identify them on the shelf: pure expensive white linen from Ischia, orange cotton from Positano, green bamboo from China and brown hemp from Colombia (from $63, cuoredilino.it).
Get: Fashion Fit for an Olympian
There’s nothing more sexy than a swimmer’s body, even for ladies. Broad shoulders, tight waist, muscular legs, flat belly and slim feet. Plus, I hate bikinis, G-strings that show off tanned buttocks and stifling straps tied around my neck. So next summer I’d love to make my regular two-mile morning sea swim wearing all the awesome, expensive and high-performance sexy swimsuits Italian Olympic star Federica Pellegrini has tested (from $210, jaked.com) in the past four years. I want a different one each morning (that should cover pretty much the entire season), including a bright fluorescent pink two-piece cross back and a sleek black one-piece with a Mandarin collar that holds my breasts firm. The swimming lane will turn into my personal sea catwalk for the fish to enjoy.
Get: An Elegant Crystal Decanter
I’m practically a teetotaler, but if I do drink wine, I want it to be like having sex. Better once in a while but done in the right way (with style) than each day but lousy and cheap. I never sip wine in a plastic cup. It would be like curling my spaghetti with a spoon, a sort of blasphemy. That’s why I use crystal Baccarat glasses. But for special occasions (when sex and wine do mix), a matching crystal wine decanter (from $545) would be most appreciated, thank you. Watching the wine linger languidly in a glimmering vial is a sensual image. Sublime perfection though comes with a matching silver “save-drop” (so it’s actually two gifts in one), that rolled little tube you stick inside the open bottle to avoid droplets from staining the tablecloth after you’ve poured the wine in the decanter or in glasses. It is usually made of flexible aluminum. I want the real precious metal.
- Silvia Marchetti, OZY AuthorContact Silvia Marchetti