Is it a Dolce Vita lifestyle as relevant in Italy as Hollywood stardom is in the States? 

Yes if that means the impromptu coffee because there's always a good reason for one, an old friend in town or closing a deal.

Yes if that means taking time for a real lunch free of rush and calorie counting.  

Yes if that means cherishing the bespoke navy cashmere blazer that makes a pair of ripped denim shorts look chic or sleeping in hand embroidered bed linen instead of keeping them just for special occasions.

Then yes viva la Dolce Vita, we just call it in a different way, the very Millennial 'slow living'. During my visit at la Biblioteca della Moda in Milan I was introduced to a magazine dedicated to it, called The Lifestyle Journal and its essence is a Diary of Slow Living as one of the editorial explains.

A movement that invokes living life by taking your sweet time. Think when you rewind a movie to detect details, colors, words, a musical note that were gone missing: when you rush through time with the pressure of beating time itself you end up disregarding all the senses. You miss the flavor of the unsuspected herb in the sauce, the subtlety of a fine fragrance, the bells ringing at noon.  Slow life is an authentic life, surrounded by items collected throughout the years and handed from generation to generation, without excess or waste. Slow life is made of traditions, heritage, gracious random acts that make your life a fine and luxurious one. Slow living is discreet and understated like a fine cashmere sweater with elbow patches.

When you grow up in the Old Continent and then move and live in the New World, you are keen to notice the cultural bias and realize the golden treasure chest you carry without knowingly admitting it. You are brought up being conscientious and thoughtful, to the point that it is hard to part from things that accompanied you in special moments or that remind you of a vacation, a person, a family moment.  It is common to cradle family memories that revolve around the kitchen, whether preparing the pomarola or story telling or just playing dress up and hiding in the cabinets. There's a gastronomic culture that goes beyond taking cooking classes (which you don't really do, on the contrary you learn by assimilation observing your grandmother cooking while life revolves around the table). Food is serious business and regulates the heartbeat of your lifestyle.

How does that connect with fashion? 

A typical interview to an Italian fashion designer ends up talking about food, fashion and family, the order varies the result is the same. We are passionate and can't help it. Memories of an armoire of haberdashery,  of summers spent cross stitching or creating the Carnival costume by grabbing garments from your mother's closet are common to all of us. Those are the rudiments, the roots that slow fashion wants to go back to. A time when things were done with time or like my grandmother says: le cose belle ci vuole tempo per farle bene, it takes time to make beautiful things.  Just guessing how many hours it takes for an atelier of alta moda to embroider a gown is a gamble, however it doesn;t mean that you have to wear couture, not at all. It is the exact opposite to voracious consumption, fast fashion. We are all guilty of falling into the temptation of walking into H&M and grabbing that trend trapper that will have a one-month lifespan before either disassembles or fades in the misfits lane. 

Moderating a fast paced life requires technique, tweaking modern habits and reinstating old ones like table manners, honoring time at the table for conversation, playing classical music. Let timeless elegance, style, culture, passion, originality go freely and savor the slow rhythm of quality. The pace of quality is slow and it helps touching an embroidery and recognize it from a print, indulge in a bite of a loaf of bread hot off the oven. 

Being Italian is a privilege, how hard could it be to acquire the sophistication of the Italian style?  Maybe if a book were written? 

Here's a day in Milan, when you are a tourist in your own country you look up and smell the roses.