Stellina's diaries

The shape of you

01/08/2017|  ask A.
italian fashion stories by Stellina

Italiano

 un mese fa

“I’m in love with the shape of you” si sentiva nella canzone alla radio e la macchina avanzava su una strada di campagna alzando dietro una nuvola densa di polvere bianca che sembrava ci stesse inseguendo. Eravamo in tre, io e A. davanti, E. dietro si stava quasi addormentando e andavamo al mare. Per me era il primo giorno di mare nel vero senso della parola nonostante la stagione estiva fosse iniziata da diverse settimane.

Non so come e perché ma siamo arrivati sulla spiaggia tardi, dopo le cinque, quando parte dei bagnanti faceva ritorno a casa e in un certo senso ero contenta di non dover cercare a lungo un posto in riva dove poter stendere gli asciugamani e goderci quello che era rimasto della giornata in santa pace. Cosa ci era rimasto: l’acqua calda del golfo torbida e carica, la spiaggia calpestata in lungo e in largo come un campo di battaglia, il sole che moriva all’orizzonte e, come un ferito, si lasciava dietro una scia di sangue.

C’è stato un momento di tutto quel tardo pomeriggio passato insieme  in cui io e A. siamo state molto vicine. Quello è stato il momento in cui le ho detto delle cose di me che, a parte Maria Teresa, nessuno sapeva. Mi ricordo che ho avvicinato le mie labbra al suo orecchio e il mare è diventato improvvisamente muto come se si fosse messo in ascolto.

Guardando le foto di quel giorno ora, credo che la mia pelle non sia mai stata così bianca a fine giugno, ne il mio corpo più spossato…

 

English 

 try Google Translate though

 

“I ‘m in love with the shape of you” was going on the radio and the car was running along a country road leaving behind a dense cloud of white dust that seemed like it was chasing us. We were in three, I was sitting in the front seats with  A., E. was sleeping in the back seat and we were going to the beach. That was actually my first day at the beach despite summer had started a several weeks ago.

I don’t know why but we got there late, half past five, when bathers were already going back home and in a certain way I was happy to see them leaving, at least I was sure I would have found a place to lie down next to the sea and enjoy what was left of the day. What was left: the Mediterranean murky waters, the beach looking like a battlefield, the sun dying at the horizon and, like a wounded soldier, leaving behind a blood trail.

There was a moment in that late afternoon when  A. and I were very close. That was the moment when I told her things about me that, apart from Maria Teresa, nobody knew. I remember my lips looking for her ear and the sea suddenly became silent as if to listen.

Looking at the photos of that day now, I think nor my skin has never been so white at the end of June, neither my body so exhausted.

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2 Comments

  • Reply Lizzy 03/08/2017 at 3:10 pm

    bellissima Stellina…

  • Reply Rosie 03/08/2017 at 6:35 pm

    Love your thoughts! I always love late noon when the beach is almost empty and there are some lost people like I am.

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