HEADS. THOUGHTS. MEMORIES.

A head and a thousand thoughts. A head and a thousand hats. Because when you collect them, when you are really passionate about them, it is hard to decide which one to use and on what occasion. My grandmother used to have a lot of hats and she told me she lost them all during the war. Too little time to evacuate and too much pain to think about vanity. She often told me how much she cared about them and she often spoke of the one she wore on her wedding day. It was small, made of felt and with a light gray veil. Her cousins, ​who lived in Florence, had given it to her for the occasion and she always told me that she felt like a diva wearing that hat. Unfortunately she didn’t wear it ever again. She didn’t have the chance, and when the war broke out, the only thing she could save was herself and her child.

I've always found hats very mysterious and I've always loved to wear them without thinking much about how, when and why. I've never had a favorite hat, I always love every single one unconditionally. I always carry them with love. I always display them with great pride.

In front of the old mirror of my grandmother, looking at my little reflection, I feel like a diva too.