Feeling tired upon waking. Showering, then lying down again. Eating porridge with apples with Leo and Alexis.

A little grey and muggy, with a jacket on, feeling a dark and angular way and walking quickly over the scars that motorcycles left on the pavement.

Enjoying looking up at plants up high on buildings in Milan.

Long line at Cos installation so I met Kenzi and Lorena at a dead designer’s studio.

After looking at the chairs therein with two tall Russians and the friendly, officious, Italian woman telling us things, we walked to the Marni installation – one of the best. Sipping shaved ice and spinning on a swing.



Capitalism is Over may have been my favorite part of Design Week. The micro culture shock that accompanies any visit somewhere new had me reflecting on extravagance, luxury, and the class structures that make those two concepts exist in the first place. (Class structure being a product of capitalism). And products! And how to produce products. Seeing photos of shipping containers and distribution warehouse on old farmhouse walls made me feel so relaxed. Good that these friends who I don’t know are also thinking about this.


Kenzi, Lorena, and I sat outside with the smell of lilacs, a small bowl of olives, black rice, and 3 beers. The scene was familial. A child hid in a man’s shirt as the man joyfully embraced another man. A woman in high heels wobbled on cobblestone with drinks in hand. The balsamic/mustard dressing accompanying my Pinzimonio di verdure was vivacious. We had pensive sunlit-beer conversations. Lorena read us an entry from her journal from a year ago.

Chewing gum, crossing the street, deciding whether or not to take the metro then buying underwear for Kenzi at a supermarket. Taking the metro, all of us in a line, indifferent to the inefficiency of the machine, laughing at the inefficiency of the machine. Everyone is one thing train feelings. Tired friends sitting together in comfortable silence.

The address I put into maps led us to a park, but then we found the castle, where a DJ played filter-sweep-reliant EDM, accompanied by uncool and lazy visuals, projected onto an elaborate infrastructure. We drank €4 beers (though they accidentally gave me 2 tickets, so €2.50 beers) and sat on the grass.

We walked to the Taiwanese restaurant where Jenny ordered for everyone. A lazy susan made sharing easy. As we were leaving I scared Ainhoa in the bathroom and Alexis laughed as hard as Ainhoa shreiked. (One of the last times we were all out together I started the rumor that Alexis likes to wait for us in the bathroom and then scare us).

Smelled like weed and cologne back at the Red Bull party tent. Same aesthetic and beer prices, but with a longer line and more bodies, none of them dancing very enthusiastically.

We left at the early hour of 1:30, but the level of inconvenience made it seem later. The metro had stopped running, night busses were few, far between, and overcrowded. Every taxi we tried to hail zoomed by, save for one who said he could only take 4 (we were 5).

So Kenzi and I took the night bus, which is free, because there is no place to buy tickets. Crowded on a bus with each other’s armpits. “Crowded on the night bus in a Rick Owens runway jacket” I thought. “This is the lifestyle that is most logical” I thought. And I agreed with myself.

“One more drink?” Kenzi asked, and we went to the Tiki-themed bar where they were playing Buena Vista Social Club. “One more drink?” Kenzi asked, and we went to Bar Basso, where every designer goes as a right of passage during design week. We wondered why. We went to the hookah bar next door (where they were still serving), then stood with our beers as designers postured, as bowtied older-men swept lemon slices from beneath our feet.

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