Some pieces speak to us, but others speak to us!

by RETRY CD 1 Comment

Umas peças falam connosco, mas outras falam de nós!

I - Some pieces speak to us...

The way of dressing is closely associated with personal history. It indicates the individual's margin of freedom in relation to family, friends and their social interactions. Clothing accompanies the evolution of life itself and reports the relationship with one's own image, letting the marks of failures and successes in building narcissism shine through.
Clothing communicates more than we can imagine.
Each outfit transmits a different message and through the colors, textures, lines and shapes, they awaken different feelings.

The preference of each piece and its combination is associated with a desire for a personality image or personal style that we want to project. As in the decoration of an environment, we can perceive a little of the personality of the person. That is, in the same way that an environment appears cozy and instils a feeling of coziness, an outfit awakens you more comfort, credibility, joy,... although the creation of your outfit may also depend on a social group culture .

Another curiosity is that the same clothing can communicate differently depending on the people who wear it. The simple change of colors in the same suit is directly related to the feelings and moods, with the movement of the body, the simplicity of the gestures, the natural and intransmissible charm, etc. of sympathy or indifference.

When there is coherence between dressing and feeling, you inevitably manage to convey more security and consequently feel more beautiful, lighter and happier.
This explains why an outfit looks different depending on the person wearing it. “After all, what gives life to an outfit is a body in motion”.

We all have garments that mark us for their extravagance, for the way they make us feel special, for having been given away by someone very dear, for the place where we buy them... In other words, everyone has pieces that bring history.

These are the “chronicles” of our closets.

The trophies we are proud to display.
And these pieces, when it comes time to review the closet, make us dream again, remember many good times and from year to year they keep lined up as if we were talking about relics. And indeed they are!
They are pieces with status!
And who would have the audacity to say that what makes us dream is not pleasant?
They are an eye drop, a stimulus and even company and my heart beats happily when I see them. And these are the ones that speak to us.

When I open the closet over and over again, I start to travel.
I pick up the photo album, still printed on paper, and I realize with nostalgia how I wanted to go back to that place and live those good times again. And so I find myself “catching” the plane and reliving it all.

We all have trips we prefer and others we despise. But they were all important. They all brought added value to my life.
Traveling opens horizons, “drowns us” in experiences that add knowledge and culture to our lives.
It undoubtedly makes us stronger, because alone or with others, we leave our comfort zone and have to face surprises quickly.
When I travel back in time, I'm always happier.
Even with adversities, they were unforgettable trips, some exotic, others more cultural and even the “pathetic” ones that accompanied by friends are absolutely incredible and healthy. A balm for the soul!


Africa, for example, has a sunset and a smell……ahhh the smell of wet earth, unique, unforgettable and magnetic. There are several landscapes, from luxury to steppes. From the king of the jungle to the “mosquito itch” that can spoil our holidays with a simple bite.

In the drawer I find the pairs with unique ethnic prints that I brought from the Masai. The children's eyes when I gave them colored candies I will never forget. It was the colors that piqued their interest and then the very different flavors than they are used to. I felt like I was in a movie. I remembered “Africa Minha”. I imagined myself as Meryl Streep and inside me, in an instant, the film and the fabulous soundtrack by John Barry ran. I added the smell of wet earth and the song “I had a Farm in Africa”# and I dreamed of Sydney Pollack's film and mine. And from there I came emotionally charged.


From Morocco I brought over beautiful Berber jewels with a great visual impact and that sometimes help us to know the history of this people.

From Gambia dyed hand-painted fabrics and wooden and silver bracelets. Pieces so special they catch your eye.

Behold, I arrive at the crosspiece of Cape Verde. Hanging is a Kaftan handmade on a loom with fantastic color coordination. wallets and snake belts handmade by the “café crème” people who do not forget that we are still brothers.

Asia, at least my Asias”, filled me with extraordinary contrasts, distinct colors and a messy mix of super fascinating vegetation landscapes with inexplicable and even bizarre characters, sounds, tastes, smells,... "beak eyes and fan feet".

I brought cashmere from China, from Singapore, beautiful silks to die for, and equally silk scarves from Bangkok. Eyes filled with frenetic traffic and a thousand and one true and false things. The wallets and watches were so “authentic” that they invited us to buy.

Thailand is an oasis where everything becomes essential.
The people are attentive and kind, the prices are attractive and everything makes us want absolutely everything.


In Japan, I had a lot of fun because no one even speaks English but “the gesture is really everything”. And so I ran around the city always with bows and smiles, but really understanding what they wanted to say to me, nah, and vice versa. Lots of giggles filled my bag. For souvenirs, just a handkerchief with the Japanese alphabet and lots of pictures in my “Rolleiflex”.
Not that I wasn't interested in all those splendid kimonos that I already had in mind, as I had seen the movie “The Last Emperor”, but the price didn't match my wallet.


Australia, well, I wish I could go there one day….the documentaries and reports from friends is almost a heresy not to know. Who knows, maybe life will still take me there.
I don't like to sin!


Europe, the old continent, which surprises me daily.
Very diversified, very sophisticated, very eclectic where we are almost all brothers or cousins, but just like in families with very different customs and customs. In this continent, each window presents a different picture and a range of timeless stories.

Europe, where I brought several pieces according to the regions, such as a Harris Tweed blazer that I bought at “Liberty” in London, which 40 years later is still a must in my wardrobe. From Germany a unique and handmade boiled wool coat….among many other pieces.
Ah, I cannot forget Istanbul, on the shores of the Bosphorus Strait between Europe and Asia.


The influences of several empires that passed through here are printed on the fabulous pashminas and the jewels made in golden brass, silk and semiprecious stones, influence of the Byzantines, left me so lost that I agreed to conquer myself and faced the customs loaded and also loaded of fear.

From Paris he brought the elegance and glamor of the city. In the City where love is in the air, I let myself be seduced by its exquisite shops and the charm of its streets, its architecture and lifestyle.
I visited Chanel, YSL, Dior, Lanvin and inevitably Jean Paul Gaultier, but I only managed to bring emotions from them. I also stopped by Ines de la Fressange, which has a delicious casual chic style.
I went to the Printemps department store, where luxury is on display all over, but I was left breathless by the architecture and the stained glass windows in the restaurant's ceiling.

Then, I crossed the city and got lost in the “Flat and Antiques Market” and in the famous “Flea Market. There I found my relics. Old crystal buckles that I adapted for a bracelet and choker and I even got some crystal earrings and a ring from the 19th century.


America, the “new continent” that Christopher Columbus gave us. His idea was to get to India but the GPS took him to the Bahamas in the Caribbean instead. This part of America is absolutely appetizing. With beaches of fine sand and transparent and warm waters, a lot of joy in the people and music in the heart. Bustling islands of happiness where time is never wasted. I am grateful to Christopher Columbus for having his astronomical calculations wrong.

The stars also write correctly by interchanged lines.
America is a continent very varied in cultures, climates and countries.
The southern part is with Grandioso Brasil (among other countries) our blood brothers full of samba. Just thinking about the fabulous “sunsets” washed down with caipirinhas, “chorinhos de pixinguinha” (“Carinhoso”, listen to it in Marisa Monte’s voice) and also indulge in bossa nova.

Oh, I wish I could sing without hurting anyone….but when God gave me a voice, it wasn't to sing.
Warm water, fish jumping from the sea to the grill and consequently onto my plate… alas, the boredom. All of this with the table set at the edge of the sea where the rhythmic waves spread over our feet.
I open another drawer and take the plane again and take a short hop to Buenos Aires. Considered the Switzerland of South America.

The mystery and sensuality of tango is ingrained with the contrasts of brute force and sensitivity of its strategically studied steps where the “milongas de amor” (#gotan project) welcome and embrace us or, if you prefer, #jennifer Lopes and Ricardo gere interpret brilliantly a tango in the film # shall we dance?”. And I read this sentence while watching them dance that I thought was fabulous.
"tango is a sad thought that can be danced".
And I remembered our fado, equally sad and dramatic but lovely. That one runs through my veins.

Tango mixes drama, passion, sensuality, aggressiveness, but it is always completely sad.
As a dance, it is "hard", masculine, without feminine wiggling, the woman is always submissive. In fact, the origin of Tango and its complex choreography at the beginning was danced by 2 men, hence they never looked each other in the eye, always faces turned away, not looking at each other.

It was born in the middle of the 19th century, but it was not until the beginning of the 20th century that its syncopated rhythm, so different and charismatic, became successful in Paris, and was accepted by the aristocracy.

Buenos Aires has an attractive and refined population that, with a rose or without a red rose across their mouths, dances the tango with such emotion and affection that you can see how they feel it is theirs alone.
The sound of the Bandoleon makes your skin crawl. (La Cumparsita - the most famous Tango).
Buenos Aires has absolutely iconic stores and good taste reflected in every window. Every time I pushed open the door of a store it was a unique experience, an adventure full of special pieces. Its different and picturesque neighborhoods, overflowing with charm, attract us and there are some shackles that don't let us leave.

I was attracted by a leather and fabric backpack that will stay with me until death do us part and from the flea market in S. Telmo I brought a tiny Nossa Senhora made with the tin of ammunition from any civil war.
And there, I was a “Star” for a few days.
From Central America, and as I greatly appreciate the heat, it is with great nostalgia that I remember Cuba in particular.
A colonial-style linen shirt reminiscent of Hemingway was my favorite choice.

I had coffee at “Floridita”, where he would sit down every day to chat and write his fabulous novels perfumed with cohiba smoke. They say that the cigar is associated with peace, tranquility, conversation, pleasure. Everything Hemingway aspired to.

History is well stamped around the island and it is with a contagious joy but also with a lot of nostalgia that I remember this wonderful land and its people with daring but kind eyes.
I only liked the vegetation in Jamaica. It is as or more beautiful and lush than in the Seychelles. But people are strange, they look like parking meters. 10 dollars, 10 minutes of sympathy and then they close the face again.

And going through some more cupboards I find the felt hats with fox tails that I brought from a factory that I discovered in Soho, New York.
I bought a “Fedora” copy of a Borsalino and two more that Audrey Hepburn wore frequently. And as this city is absolutely extraordinary and where everything you dream of already exists, I lived up to the dreams I could.
This is my Way!

This cosmopolitan place known as the “city where you sleep standing up”, where eccentricity abounds, was one of the first places I chose to travel and as you have already noticed, I definitely could not die without going there.

One night, I went to the “BLUE NOTE” where the Ray Brown Trio played # “Summertime”, with Gene Harris on the piano. If I live a thousand years I will never forget it.
It was a unique interpretation and worth listening to.
Sacramental!

New York never stops and the variety of cultures and ethnicities and their “Savoir faire” forced me to fill my suitcase, I was very young and I was dazzled. It is fascinating. A world within the planet. Huge and full of curiosities and extremely eclectic.
A city in permanent corruption and eternal learning.
A city that I wanted to bring all of them and show my parents.

I showed here a little bit of my world and my closet, with my soul and memory full of memories. And it is with all this that I live daily.
These pieces never leave me alone and are the ones that speak to me.
Some of the pieces of clothing I still have, others have already gone on to other trips with other people.

In this case, clothes are also protagonists and are responsible for the circular economy. It is this circular and hereditary vision that makes us belong to history and integrates us into today's world.

Here I end the first part of this chronicle in which these are the pieces that speak to us .

I'll leave the second part for our next meeting, where I'll talk about the pieces that talk about us.

We meet again on the 3rd of August. And for those on vacation, happy holidays!

Maria Pia

*image taken from the cover of Vogue Unique supplement 745, by Vogue Italia, 2012.


1 Response

Maria José Ferreira
Maria José Ferreira

August 10, 2022

Muito interessante! Adorei. De facto, o que importa são as histórias da vida. O que de cada mundo, fica a morar connosco, seja através do que for. Mesmo, sim de uma peça de roupa! ❤️

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