It's the dog days of summer and rated R headlines are all the rage, especially if you are vacationing, sipping rose' under the striped umbrella at Soho beach house. If you are cooling off in Montauk, you are not exhonerated either, this is a headline that is supposed to attract the highest traffic. 

You will not be disappointed.

In chic-landia (here)  you know not to expect #OOTD, celebrity spotting or make-up tutorials because 

1. we don't follow trends, we set them;
2. we don't believe in the force of the outfit-of-the-day, because what works for me today doesn't necessarily work or mean anything for anyone else's body or wallet;
3. we wear "barely there" make-up, instead we take skincare as religiously as the morning coffee;
4. also, we don't wear skinny pants and this is a long story you'll fid more about in the book 

So, what the heck are we talking about?

Thank you for reading until here, because what's about to unfold is as juicy and sultry as skinny dipping. 

For real.  

It all started with a bunch of wild girlfriends and a conversation in which we established that European women wear lingerie outside the boudoir, yet also go braless when they feel like it, and that includes the beach (with a certain filter when children are prancing around) because we don't fancy tan lines.

Then, it continued with the reality that when it's time to start wearing a bra, in Italy, we are accompanied to the lingerie store where the expert sales associates (aka, the owner that has dressed the entire family, generation after generation) find us THE bra. 

That everyone's size is composed by a lot of elements, the ribs, the breast, the shoulders, her posture, her walking and sitting habits that cannot be just confined to a number and a letter. 

That whatever the bra is, a triangle, under-wired or balconnet, padded or semi-padded, lace, tulle, lycra, cotton, it is supposed to make us feel naked, it doesn't show, mark, cut, shows too much, holds the breasts enough not to make it overflow or unflattering.

That we hand-wash said bras and let them dry flat.  In other words, Sophia Loren in her heated 1963 movie "Ieri, Oggi, Domani" didn't do anything far away from reality. Not that every Italian woman looks as damn sensual while manipulating black stockings and garther, but that stockings, bras and underwear hanging in the bathroom is pretty much a true scene as that truth that we talk with our hands. 

As you can imagine, the conversation went BEEP and exponentially happier by the many chilled glasses of rose' circulating. Shortly after, it was decided to all go spend an afternoon at La Perla, the quintessence of Italian lingerie, to make all gf's acquainted with the wolrd of luxury lingerie and feel a bit closer to Sophia.

My first job in Miami was in the showroom of La Perla from where I was representing, distributing, merchandizing, marketing, speaking, breathing, wearing their bras and underwear to the Caribbean. And you may imagine how, walking into the boutique, was for me a joyful flashback, to when I had the luxury to be handling every day the most gorgeous collections and was privileged to fit their sample size as a glove. 

Reminiscing of all the techniques, history of the looms and the family who used to own La Perla, sparked up the passion again and the desire to know more of a luxurious world that one can wear without anyone knowing (or maybe only the ones that should know.) 

Lace under-wire or removable pads? coffee or prosecco anyone? is blush or white the most neutral color? fuchsia or sapphire lace? bralette or triangle for home lounging, Leavers lace or Chantilly? laser-cut or soutage bathing suit, hand embroidery and the Maison collection. 

It was a deep-dive into a world where every piece is luscious, sultry, plush, luxurious, alluring, evoking a moment between you and your skin. And there you have the skinny-dipping. 

How easy it is to get used to luxury? Luxury is a state of the mind that prescinds from the monetary value and allows you to be a kid again. Anyone can be a queen for a night, a moment, an afternoon, just act "as if" to feel that richness that nobody will be able to take away. 

On second thoughts, an afternoon at La Perla should be required by law before obtaining a license to be a woman.