DEAR EMILY,
I hear you’re taking time out from irritating the French and have popped over from Paris to Rome. Well, take it from someone who knows: don’t assume it will be all la dolce vita and pizzas.
Yes, the Italians may seem less obviously sniffy than the French (most people do) and you might argue that Rome is more provincial than Paris. But believe me, the Italians can be just as tricky. If not more so.
Half-Italian, I’ve had a home in France for 23 years, so allow me to give you the benefit of my experience.
One of the first encounters I had with my Italian father took place at the Antico Caffe Greco, an 18th-century cafe on one of Rome’s most fashionable streets where, among other illustrious patrons, Byron and Keats used to drink coffee.
Lily Collins in Rome for filming on Emily In Paris. Helena advises that no chic Roman would be seen dead in trainers outside of a tennis court at the exclusive Aniene
I was a nervous teenager, three weeks into a relationship with a father I’d been estranged from since I was two years old due to my parents’ divorce.
My father and I sat down at one of the round marble tables. When the waiter arrived, I suavely ordered a cappuccino, one of the few Italian words I knew at the time.
‘Non e possibile!’ shrieked my father. ‘How can a daughter of mine shame me so.’
I had committed the unspeakable crime of ordering a milky coffee after midday. Something no self-respecting Italian would ever do. My father almost disowned me on the spot.
When I heard you were heading to Rome, Emily, my heart sank. I sat through your TV series (set in Paris) at my home in Languedoc, watching through my fingers as you mangled the language, wore appalling clothes and assumed every man you met was trying to have sex with you. That last one is a lot more likely in Italy, incidentally.
I can only hope you have become a little less gauche and that you’ve now ditched your beastly beret and Breton stripes, because they will go down just as badly with the Romans as they did with the Parisians.
Let me give you some tips that will save you from your next faux pas, or from being a brutta figura as the Italians say.
Sadly, it seems from recent pictures of the new series that you’ll be getting off on the wrong foot by wearing what, like most Americans, I assume you call ‘sneakers.’
Notwithstanding the city’s famously cobbled streets, no chic Roman would be seen dead in trainers outside of a tennis court at the exclusive Aniene (full name Circolo Canottieri Aniene) club.
Opt for loafers (preferably Tod’s, Gucci or Salvatore Ferragamo), ballerina pumps or wedges that are easy to walk in. Rome is a city you get to know by walking, and you won’t get far in the vertiginous Louboutins Parisians favour.
You will hear the phrase ‘bella figura’ a lot. This does not mean having a beautiful figure; it is far more profound than that. It is at the heart of everything Italians wear, do and say.
It loosely translates as dressing well, being well educated (not, heaven forbid, maleducato i.e. rude) making a good impression and being intelligent all rolled into one. It combines style, dignity, education, elegance and even propriety. It is the single most important piece of advice I can give you. If you maintain a bella figura you can’t go wrong.
Lily Collins, Ashley Park and Camille Razat star in Emily In Paris
For most people, the easiest part is dressing well. So at least do that, Emily. Please. No more of the garish outfits that make you, as my daughter puts it, ‘stand out like a clownfish’.
Rome is all for a relaxed and casual style, but it has to be stylish. Invest in some classic Italian designs, well-fitted and made from good fabrics.
And don’t assume that just because you managed to survive Parisian woman judging you, the women in Rome will be easy to deal with. Remember, there is only one thing a Frenchwoman fears, and that’s an Italian woman.
While we’re on the subject of natives, if you found French men lecherous and a tad too attentive, you ain’t seen nothing yet.
Pictures of you filming with handsome actor Eugenio Franceschini hint at an Italian love interest which seems fitting – Italian men have one mission in life, and that is to seduce. Wherever you go, you will hear cries of ‘ciao bella’, from boys on scooters, men walking past you, taxi drivers waiting in line, even policemen in impeccably pressed uniforms.
My mother, who is 81, lives in Umbria. A few weeks ago a plumber came to fix her shower. He spent more time flirting with her than sorting out the plumbing.
‘You Italian men don’t care how old, how ugly, how infirm a woman is, do you?’ she teased.
Helena advises avoiding Aperol spritz – which is for tourists only
No self-respecting Italian would order a milky coffee after midday, Helena writes
He shook his head. ‘Basta che respira,’ came the reply (‘As long as she’s breathing’).
Emily, the next thing we need to talk about is food. Please remember that in Italy, pasta – be it spaghetti, penne, linguine, rigatoni, or farfalle (and, yes, you should know the difference between them and many more) – are all starters. Please do not embarrass yourself by trying to order it as a main course, unless you identify as a seven-year-old.
And I know you Americans love what you call ‘parmesan cheese’ with everything (NB: it’s just parmigiano), but if you ask for it with spaghetti alle vongole the waiter might just escort you to the airport. In fact, any pasta dish that contains fish or seafood does not work with parmesan because it overpowers the delicate flavours.
We have already covered milky coffee but bear in mind that a post-lunch or dinner espresso comes after pudding and never with it.
Remember, too, that Italy is the home of leather accessories and sunglasses. Do not skimp on these. Romans will notice, and they will judge you. People, especially women, are looking at your shoes and your bag, and they will form an opinion of you based on them.
I’m sure you will go out for drinks at some stage. Can you please not embarrass yourself by ordering an Aperol spritz? It’s for tourists only. If you want to look like a local, then order a Campari and soda. The same applies to limoncello, which you drink only when offered either by a restaurateur or a host.
I’m sure if you bear all the above in mind, you will be fine. Just don’t be a brutta figura. I can’t bear to watch if you do.
BEST, HELENA
Helena Frith Powell is the author of Ciao Bella – Sex, Dante & How To Find Your Father In Italy, published by Gibson Square Books
