For years, I assumed that “handmade Italian shoes” meant shoes that were crafted entirely by hand, from start to finish. I imagined artisans hunched over lasts, stitching leather with needles and thread, shaping soles with nothing but skill and experience. I believed that machines had no place in true luxury shoemaking. I was wrong. The…
For years, I believed that a great shoe had to be either formal or casual, but never both. I owned stiff Oxfords that gathered dust in my closet and sneakers that I wore everywhere, convinced that elegance and comfort were mutually exclusive. Then I discovered Italian loafers. The soft leather, the flexible sole, the effortless…
For years, I believed that all luxury shoes were essentially the same. I assumed that the difference between a $500 pair and a $1,000 pair was branding and marketing, not craftsmanship and materials. I bought shoes based on how they looked in the store, not how they were constructed. I ended up with a closet…
For years, I assumed that Italian luxury footwear meant heritage brands with decades—or centuries—of history. I believed that the older the brand, the better the shoe. Then I discovered Aquazzura. The brand was young, but the designs were bold, fresh, and undeniably sophisticated. The shoes were not just beautiful; they were comfortable. They were not…
For years, I believed that a scarf was a scarf. I bought cheap wool scarves, wore them for a season, and replaced them when they frayed or lost their shape. I assumed that a luxury cashmere scarf was an unnecessary indulgence—something for people with more money than sense. Then I bought my first Loro Piana…
For years, I assumed that Italian cashmere meant Loro Piana, Brunello Cucinelli, and Falconeri. I knew the names that dominated the quiet luxury conversation. I bought the sweaters that appeared in the magazines. Then a friend—a textile collector who had been buying luxury knitwear for decades—handed me a Fedeli sweater and said, Try this. This…
For years, I assumed that Italian cashmere meant Loro Piana, Brunello Cucinelli, and maybe Falconeri. I knew the names that dominated the quiet luxury conversation. I bought the sweaters that appeared in the magazines and on the influencers. Then a friend—a textile collector who had been buying luxury knitwear for decades—handed me a Malo sweater…
For years, I assumed that Italian cashmere was made from Italian goats. I believed that the cashmere came from Italy, that the goats grazed on Italian hillsides, and that “Made in Italy” meant “sourced in Italy.” I was wrong. The truth is more interesting. Cashmere comes from goats that live in the harsh, high-altitude regions…
For years, I assumed that Italian cashmere was simply better than Scottish cashmere. I believed that Italy, with its fashion houses and luxury brands, had perfected the art of cashmere, while Scotland, with its rainy weather and tweed heritage, was stuck in the past. I was wrong. After wearing sweaters from both traditions for years,…
For years, I bought cashmere sweaters the wrong way. I would see a sweater on sale, feel the softness, and buy it without considering the quality. I assumed that all cashmere was essentially the same, and that the price difference was just branding. I ended up with a drawer full of sweaters that pilled within…