Amo Romeo

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?! Pure. Fucking. Retail. Love. Simply put, this is the clothing store of my dreams.
As we walked past, I spied some of my favorite things: bunched up skirts, asymmetrical buttons, shrugs, shirtwaist dresses with puffy sleeves. Pure retro modern chic. I had to go in.
My friend immediately spied my ultimate jacket and fit like a glove, it did! Diagonal buttons, short-​waisted for a gal with a short torso… it’s perfection. I purchased it immediately, but then I spied an avante garde Minnie Mouse number and immediately undressed (it’s not that illicit) and again plunked down my credit card because this frock IS THAT PERFECT.
But it’s more than just having perfect pieces. Soon it became apparant that the kind lady helping me realize the perfect fit was none other than the designer herself! In fact, she was in the back surrounded by patterns, measuring tapes and various design ephemera and really, this doesn’t ever happen for us in the states where even «designer» threads are mass produced in countries where children sit for 18 hours at a sewing machine. Hell, even for this, you pay a fortune (not me!). Shopping local seems like less of a trend… it’s fully actualized here.
I’ll be truthful and say that I have 10 days left in Florence and I’m already thinking about the fabulous cross back shrug I noticed on the way out of the store (this is a common theme here. I kept finding items after paying up).
Amo Romeo may be the retail ruin of me forever.