With Rome's heat wave zapping almost every single thought stem I could ever have, the only brain burst in the past twenty-four hours is the realization that the Roman heat marks the end of Red Pants. Yes, we may see Red Shorts, Red Pants more immature cousin, but rarely will we find Red Pants when 30 degrees+ means fashion is flagrantly cast to the wind, whatever wind there may be.
I do not bribe them. They just do it. Redpants.
*Julian Barnes I know, I know. I've obsessed. I've fixated. I've insisted. I've hyperbolized. I've exaggerated. I've overkilled how I much I don't like red pants. But I think its become frankly obvious that I love seeing men in ridiculously colored pants, most of red. I can't resist them.
More pet than pet peeve, spindly legged, tight fitted red pants (or any color and style for that matter) bring a bit of goofy and delight every day. Don't tell but I'm even contemplating getting the Professor some snappy trousers for his birthday (and maybe moi though Uniqlo no longer seems to have any I like). Who would have thought that the mean reds would come to mean so much to me?
This is my friend Fabio. He has a collection of red pants and then some. And this is proof that I do not have any deep-rooted resentment against people who wear red pants as my friend Old School has suggested. Although I just don't get the fashion choice, I have begun to love red pants and the men who wear them.
My top four shots of the past few months for style (drain pipe!), attitude (swagger), team work and couples.
Je sais, je sais, I am singing the same old song, but I've turned over a new leaf thanks to Sesto. Instead of being agro-obsessive about Red Pants, I have learned to embrace the Rainbow Collection. Color and colorful clothing are rarely appreciated in the US as they are here, and there is nothing wrong it. Sesto, my Friday night taxi driver, told me not only where I could buy his awesome checked shirt (Gruppo Clark, Totti and Ilari shop there as well), but that he has over 40 different colored shirts with pants to match. I am in love.
As I often via for canditature in the Best Mom (and otherwise) Ever Club, I took mini-e out for a night on the town Notte dei Musei, where we immersed ourselves in arte povera and bauhaus at the MAXXI. Despite the 2 am NdM extended hours, I kept us to a cool curfew of midnight. Yeah, it's true: dragging a child around a contemporary art museum late into the evening could be perceived as slightly self-indulgent parenting, but mini-e is that kind of kid. She likes staying out way past her bedtime and she likes art.
Though I was all about Pistoletto, mini-e just wanted to see the sala spaccata (split room) by Giuseppe Penone's Scultura di Linfa- a room covered in undulating leather and marble, with a split resin-filled wooden plank. [Check out the cool red pants in the photo. Note: every NdM produces great red pants footage.] I dragged her for a bit of Bauhaus to the Rietveld exhibition and then to the lab.
MAXXI's newest laboratorio rocks big time. For the ninety minute program, we toured the Rietveld exhibiton with several other children and guide and then. . . .drumroll. . . . we made our own mini Rietveld chairs in that little temporary side house next to the museum. I must brag here: everyone in the museum wanted one when we were walking around.
Want the chair? Grab a child between 4 and 12 years, and reserve your Saturday afternoon at the MAXXI, via Guido Reni 4, third to last stop off the Tram 2, direction Mancini.
PostScript: Giovi has just stressed the importance of informing all of you that adults can make their own chairs sans enfants by signing up for the Adult programs. Also, the MAXXI will be celebrating its 1st anniversary on Saturday, May 28 by offering visitors free education programs, labs and tours. Reservations must be made in advance.