Autumn in Firenze

Florence has always treated me with a tenderness as soft as water. I couldn’t bear to be just a visitor, so I chose to make it my home.

Returning to Florence this time, she wore a richer shade of brown—early autumn had arrived. I slipped into a Blumarine silk dress adorned with maple leaves, capturing a moment in my favorite café, Gilli, with the autumn-dressed storefronts in the background. Beneath the gaze of angels, I donned a vintage Blumarine piece from '99 and snapped a photo with her, a timeless memory. In a Blumarine dress embroidered with golden sequins, I drifted through the crowd along the Arno, embraced by the setting sun, as it intertwined with the sequins, scattering radiant light. My crimson Dolce & Gabbana suit flirted with the sunlight filtering through ancient buildings, like a glass of red wine that, in a gentle swirl, captivates and intoxicates.

"Do you feel lonely?" people often ask. I always respond with a gentle smile, shifting my gaze to the sun-drenched Florence, where the amber light blurs my vision, covering me softly as ever. My heart swells and trembles slightly.

"How could I?" I say. Here, I breathe freely in her vast, welcoming embrace.