Milan's cathedral.Not a great deal to say about
Milan, mainly because we spent most of our time shopping and eating. It was quite fortuitous that we should arrive in
Italy during sales week (one of only two such weeks in the year). What better way to become reacquainted with capitalism.
A shopping arcade.
Milan’s place in the league of stylish cities is established, thanks to its many glamorously attractive and well-dressed citizens. Many handsome Italian men were seen, clad in impeccable suits and astride cream-coloured Vespas. High heels and designer sunglasses were everywhere – including the policewomen, which seems rather impractical for chasing pickpockets, but perfect for standing outside monuments looking foxy. Even their uniforms were figure hugging. Vicky got a much needed haircut in Milan, during which the hairdressers repeatedly exclaimed, “Italian people, belissimo! No?” which she felt compelled to agree with since they were wielding large scissors.
Dressed to kill.
Ooh! Celebrity measurements!
No trip to Milan is complete without visiting the Golden Quad, a rectangle of streets containing elite fashion boutiques. We made the mistake of entering the Salvatore Ferragamo store while wearing thongs. The saleswomen were silently but noticeably aghast.
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