These shots are not new. I posted them on June 13th, 2011, after taking them in Madrid a few days earlier, on June 10th
to be precise. The first conclusion – somewhat unflattering for myself – is
that, on the day of Portugal and Portuguese Communities, I was walking around
the capital of the kingdom that most attacked our national independence. The
second one – seemingly insignificant but of a surgical relevance on
these days – has to do with the relationship between Fabrizio's
spring/summer look and his time in Madrid. According to the weather report, at 11:59
a.m., at the time I took these pictures, it would have been 21° C. The maximum
temperature in Madrid, on June 10th, 2011, would reach 25° C .
The order of the photos in the original post
is exactly the opposite to the one shown in today’s post. Because visually
speaking, the detail does not overlap the whole. And because, in human terms,
no matter how impressive the shoes, the identity of the person who chose them
mattered more to me than the choice itself. Today, circumstances have changed. Last week was probably the coldest
that Portugal has experienced so far this winter. The contingency plans for
Lisbon and Porto have been activated last night, it’s been snowing for several
days in Madrid and I believe that, by now, Fabrizio’s arms and feet are
protected accordingly.
The other day, I was in the Oriente Train
Station (Lisboa) waiting for the train that would take me to Porto. In front of me, I had several people
muffled up in every possible way. Beanies, gloves, stoles, scarves. High-necked
sweaters, corduroy trousers, sheepskin jackets. Some of those who wore
these warm clothes surprisingly donned naked ankles. In some cases, with
short socks (whose end I could glimpse, between the shoes and the skin), in
others I had the feeling they were wearing no socks at all (but I give it the
benefit of the doubt: the socks would be short enough not to be seen underneath
the footwear).
Each of us has a very personal perception of
what is hot or cold and of how we experience heat or coolness. Each one has its
thermometers and thermostats (there are even those who remain indifferent under
extreme temperatures) and anyone of us has already felt over or underdressed
for the occasion, be it social or meteorological. But it is not at all what
this is about. This is about a
visual trend of clothing that, for many people, overlaps the ‘raison d'être’ of
the clothing itself. I ventured to ask some questions about naked ankles in the
depth of Winter... The answers alternated between the negationist current
("no, I am not cold at all ") and aesthetic enslavement ("I
cannot see myself any other way"). What do these two questions have in
common? A slight feeling of discomfort when they are asked. Generated, I
believe, by the inner recognition of how ridiculous it is to embody this visual
expression under near zero temperatures.
There are more serious scourges in the world
than part of mankind pretending not to feel cold in the same spots that it has
so often taken care to protect? Certainly. Provided they are not responsible
for the congestion of hospital emergencies or the collapse of the National
Health Service, the ankles of a few do not interfere with the lives of others.
And are not these people free to do what they most want? They most certainly
are. But when millions of people
around the world, for reasons of a strictly visual nature, "cease to be
cold" in the same area of the body that they tried so hard to protect
their entire lifetime, something is wrong. It is curious that in times of
unprecedented freedom and self-determination, we all behave like sheep and ...
forgive me those who are dear to me and those whom I have never seen before ...
are so profoundly silly
p.s. – Despite the irrelevance of these facts,
I share them here. Twenty years ago,
there were no short socks. I remember folding the conventional-sized socks -
when I wore shorts – to avoid the bar of the sock showing above the tennis
shoes, which, voided of function, was left to the status of visual noise
(cancelled by the said fold). I did not say it? I will say it now. Most of my
socks are short. But I repeat: this is not the point (I think I insult the
reader more by feeling the need to explain myself than by taking the risk of
calling him an idiot). I also have a bunch of beanies at home and that is no
reason to wear them to the beach in the peak of summer
