Tag Archives: Fashion

The mist spills over the mountain top

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The mist spills over the top of the mountain as if it is a waterfall. The mountain is not black but, rather, dark grey. The sky, over there, a long way away, is bright and white. Here it is raining. The heating is turned up in the car – at least, in the car, I have heating!

Autumn is here with a vengeance!

Friday night was rain, Saturday rain for half the day, Sunday sun and warmth and this morning rain again and cold. Nope, I like summer (and spring if it’s warm enough and not like this year).

There are a ton of half-finished posts – I just couldn’t get my head round them to finish them. Maybe this will be another. I did do lots of little odd jobs around the house (as F was working), which was good. It was only little things – but it makes a difference and makes me happier. Still a lot to do though.

Things have happened that, really I should have mentioned before; that I did mention in those half-finished posts but of which you, of course, know nothing. So let’s tell you something, at least.

R&Al, with whom we went out for a meal (or, rather, R, whilst we were having a cigarette, outside Baia Chia) told me that, in all the time they have known F, he has never spent so much time in Carrara! I thought, at the time he told me, of how lovely that was. Since then (and, in particular, this morning), I’ve been thinking that, perhaps there is another reason. My own paranoia stepping in and leading me to doubt the motives. I force myself to put those thoughts aside since it is highly unlikely that they have any basis in fact.

A few days ago (or maybe a week or two, now), F said that he would ‘like to go away for Christmas, just you, me and the bambini’. Obviously, the holiday was even better than I thought it was. It was very relaxing and he would like the same thing for Christmas, except ……. before this statement …….

Well, it seems (according to R) that he used to spend nearly every Christmas in Vienna (his favourite city). As such, his friend, Fi, phoned and he agreed that we would go there this Christmas (after he had checked with me) and, so, Fi found us a flat in the centre for us to stay with the dogs. To be honest, even if it will be cold, it should be lovely. And it is his favourite city and one to which I have never been, so it’s time. In addition, Fi is a very good friend of his (who I have not yet met) and is married to a guy who is a chef by trade – so just imagine how spectacular Christmas lunch/Christmas Eve dinner would be! Yes, I said, of course I would love to go. And, if there is snow………for Christmas……..how wonderful that would be!

But, we shall see what happens. However, we have been talking about how we should spend our 1st anniversary. I know, a whole year! Hahahaha. This time last year, we had only chatted online. The restaurant we choose (for it will be celebrated over dinner, of course) will be one of our favourites. Probably Giacomo’s. It won’t be L’Assassino, which is where we were on Saturday night, even if it is a lovely restaurant with 1st-class service. In the end, it is similar to Giacomo’s and the real cost was €154 for the two of us – anitpasto, secondo, dolce, l’aqua e vino – but I had a voucher meaning that, on Saturday night, we paid €54! Of course, the voucher (for €100) cost me €50 about three months ago via City Deal.

I did wonder if it would really work. The basic concept is this. A company (restaurant, hotel, gym, etc.) offer a deal – in this case – €100 voucher for €50. If you want to go for it (you have to be signed up to do this), you click on the appropriate button within the 24 hours that the ‘deal’ is active (each deal is available for only 24 hours). However, that doesn’t mean you get the voucher. The company have set the minimum number of people that must take up the offer before it is effected. If, at the end of the 24 hours, enough people have signed up for the deal then they email you the voucher which you print out.

In this case (and another that I have for another restaurant), you book the restaurant, go and eat and then, when you ask for the bill, show them the voucher. I did expect a bit of a fight and half-expected that I would be told that ‘you had to tell us at the time you booked, sir!” but no, none of that. Just a ‘Ah, you have a voucher’, then the bill with the explanation as to how much we were to pay and that was that.

It worked fabulously. Next is a restaurant near my flat and one which I have wanted to go to for ages. Unfortunately, it is a meat restaurant and so the intention is to go with A, later this week. I’ll let you know.

One downside to this City Deal is that you get two emails per day with offers (it used to be one) – each one lasting until 23.59 of that day, so no chance to go and see first, if you see what I mean. However, it was a really good first experience of both City Deal and L’Assassino.

And now we have entered the ‘stressful period’. Last week was Milan Fashion Week, with the Showroom Sales in full swing (hence the working all weekend). Towards the end of this week is a two-day trip near Venice, followed almost immediately by Friday and the weekend in London. And then, in November (for he plans his stresses in advance), he will be away every week.

On the plus side, as we were walking back through the centre of Milan, past the Duomo and up Corso Vittorio Emanuele II, we passed the Zara shop and we looked in the windows (as it’s part of his job, he can never resist) and he saw a cardigan that he said he really liked. So that sorts the anniversary present, then :-) and that I can get on Saturday, whilst he’s away – and, maybe, go to IKEA and get some cupboards for the bathroom so I can tidy up a bit more of the flat – I have a goal, after all!

One food in common – Anchovies!

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F was in his element. Greeting people like he had known them for years, and some of them, of course, he had. For those, he knew their names (something I always struggle with) and remembered things about them. I have always admired that but I am aware you can train yourself to be better at it.  I don’t have the will, really.

F took my coat – mainly because he was ‘showing me off’.  Which is fine.  I was introduced as his ‘findanzato’ to a number of people.  I am proud to be so.  And I can do the ‘being very charming and nice’.  I am gay, after all!  I just can never remember their names after 2 seconds.  Ah well.

Of course, other than FfI (with her ‘walker’ as she described him) and N&aS, I knew a number of people already.  People that I have met, including M who is really lovely (and drinks beer like a true English woman), the Manageress of the shop, D – tall, long blonde hair, S, who works with F and is helping with the flat also and a really nice guy, D another guy from the shop, etc., etc.

And I met the BIG MAN himself.  What a really pleasant, down-to-earth guy he was.  I spent a few minutes chatting with him, laughing and joking.  None of your snobby ‘I’m a designer so look at me’ thing going on.  Really nice guy.

There was champagne and nibbles.  After, we all went for a meal.  Nice evening all round.  And then F, who was going to go back to his flat, decided to come and stay with me and this, after no pressure from me whatsoever.  It’s times like that when I feel that he feels the same as me.  And that makes me feel so good.

V and I are exchanging emails as you may have realised from the post below.  It also includes various other things (Rufus, the conclusion of the Final Question, etc., etc.)

I had invited him to the do last night.  After all, this was the world he wanted to be in.  However, he couldn’t go (or chose not to go).  And, I had mentioned that I would be seeing S&N there.  He included a last paragraph, saying that he was concerned because I had changed so much and he thought perhaps I was getting in too deep and he didn’t want me to be hurt and was I sure that this was good?

I wonder why?  Yes, I have changed.  My hair is no longer dyed, so it’s grey.  The clothes that I am wearing are, somewhat, being chosen/determined by F.  As I pointed out to him – I may seem changed on the outside but I am the same ‘me’ inside.  And, as I also pointed out, I am the ‘all or nothing’ guy.  What is the point in doing this if it is half-hearted?  Why bother unless you commit – without that the partner is nothing more than a (more) intimate friend?

And, as I also pointed out, I will be fine as long as F is truthful to me and, to date, I have no reason to distrust him and hope I never will.

Not really sure what his motivation behind this was.  Maybe he was genuinely concerned and really doesn’t want me to be hurt?  Who can tell?  I’m not even sure HE could tell.

When I woke F up this morning, he wanted to stay asleep.  ‘Let’s call in and say we are sick and stay in bed all day’ he murmurs from under the duvet.  ‘It’s a lovely idea’ I say, smiling.  But the reality is that neither of us would do that and we both know that.  It’s the type of people we are.  Different but the same in important things.  And now we have found one food in common – anchovies!

The Fashion World – just part of his job

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He says it again. The three words; the phrase that I wait for. It makes me feel all warm inside. I don’t say anything. I already say them more than him anyway. And I do mean them, I really do.

It turns out he wasn’t at work at all yesterday. I didn’t realise that he was having all the windows replaced in the new flat. Well, he wasn’t, but his landlady was. And so, he had to stay in the flat, of course.

I text him before I leave work asking what time he would finish work, so that I knew or would have some idea as to what we may be doing and when I would go and see him.

That’s when I found out he wasn’t at work at all. He calls me as I’m driving home. A few minutes before, I had thought it would be nice to go to Baia Chia, the restaurant that is his favourite. I asked him if he would like to go but that I would be paying. He thought I said something about buying something from Ikea ….. buy eekaya (the way that they pronounce Ikea here). I explained. He said ‘Oh, Maria’s!’.

He booked and we were going to eat at 9. I was really happy about it as, not only is it a lovely restaurant and the staff so nice and the food so good – but he was going to let me pay! And, as I told him as we clinked glasses, it was to thank him for a wonderful 2 months.

And, although it wasn’t then, even if I don’t remember exactly why, he said the three words again and it made me very happy, as I am, often, with him.

He said that he was less worried about the flat now. He knew it would be small and that it didn’t worry him any more and that he would move in and everything would not be perfect but he would live with it even if it was a mess and that he would sort it out even if it took three months.

But I didn’t believe him even if I hoped it would be true.

I told him so by saying ‘I’m not sure that you can live without everything being tidy’.

He said that he could. Later he said that he doubted if he could. And, certainly, that I DO believe.

On the way home (his place) he said that he was more relaxed now. It’s not really true but I know he is trying.

He also said that we should quit smoking. Or, at least, cut down. I told him that he couldn’t change me so quickly and I was already doing other things. Which he knew and understood. And he said that, at least he would cut down. And I know that I will try, when I’m with him, to smoke less. I guess.

And I told him I was a bit worried about Rufus. It seems that the deterioration is going in spurts. He doesn’t wee in the house all the time but more often now. And that seemed to happen suddenly. Then, on Thursday night, I noticed, when we were out, that he seemed to be a bit drunk; Friday morning much worse; Friday night still just as bad. It’s not like he collapses (the back legs are very weak now) but seems to stagger a lot, just as if he is drunk.

I know it’s coming, the end, so I give him extra hugs and stuff. And, of course, I have the added thing of telling V. And, yes, it is a little upsetting, especially as he has been such a good dog but V will be really upset, which doesn’t help. Even if he really hasn’t had anything much to do with him for the last 12 months (since the break up, over a year ago now). However, it is all part of having a dog and I do have Dino now, as well.

F says ‘poverino’, as he does with Rufus.

And now, as I write this, I am back at home, having picked up my suit (after alterations) that F has decided to give me as my Christmas present. We are going to the cocktail party in the shop on Wednesday, where he is going to introduce me to the big boss and he told me that I must be very elegant – he will be showing me off, after all – even if he didn’t say that bit :-D.

He wants me to wear the suit or, at least the jacket with jeans. I said that, next time he is at my place, he needs to look through my stuff to decide what I should wear as I will wear whatever he wants. I said that I had no idea what to say to the big boss, other than ‘hello’ and ‘nice to meet you’. But there will be plenty of people there that I know so it will all be fine. And I get to see him in his element and I know, already, that he is good at what he does. So I am half looking forward to it and half apprehensive about it. I mean, I have to make a good impression, for his sake. And it will be another ‘first’ for me, as I’ve never met a ‘designer’ before, so that will be good. And, the fact that he wants me there and wants to introduce me to the big boss, says a lot, I think.

And so, in spite of everything, it seems I will be more involved with the fashion world after all, which I find quite funny now. Years ago, with V, it would have been important. Now, with F, it’s part of his job and, so, feels so different! And I am really outside it and, so, I think it all feels different for him. I will do a post after Wednesday to let you know how I got on in the Fashion World.

Needy or not?

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‘I like you a lot’ he writes, after he explained that he is not good with words.  OK, fair enough.  He doesn’t want to wear out the three words and, anyway, actions speak louder than words, as we all know.

I missed him last night, even if I did get to bed at 2 a.m. and went straight to sleep (aided by a few glasses of wine).  Still, it would have been nice to have been able to curl up to him and kiss him, softly and tenderly.

Perhaps, even if he were to see this blog, it would hold little interest for him.  His thing is music.  Mine is words and, more often than not, written words rather than spoken words.  We kind of compliment each other, which is good and as it should be.

And today he will be so busy, working into the night, probably.  And so, it is likely that we won’t be together tonight either although I hope we shall be.

If necessary, I will go to his place (providing I have had some sleep first).

In the meantime, we text and chat and call.  We both have jobs that we take seriously (even if I don’t have so much to do most of the time) and we’re both good at what we do, even if he enjoys his more than I enjoy mine.

And, today, I have been busy with clients again.  We spoke as they left.  He is preparing stuff but won’t start the main work until about 7 p.m.  He doesn’t know what time he will finish.  I said that I was going to get a couple of hours sleep and then I could come to his place, if he would like, as long as it wasn’t 2 in the morning or something.

He then suggested that, if I would like, I could come to where he is working and get the keys to his flat, go there and then he could come later….if necessary, I could even go to bed and he would call me when he arrived home so that I could let him in.

He wants this as much as I do.  I actually said that it’s if he wants, as well, as it takes two of us.  But he doesn’t want to appear so needy, even if he is needy.

He makes me smile.  I will call him later, after I have slept.

And, so, I replied to his text of liking me with ‘I guessed that as actions speak louder than words’.  And then reminded him of what he had said (about everyone looking for the same thing) and said that maybe, hopefully, we had both found it!

He laughed (in text form).  And then the call later with the suggestion of me going round, before he gets home.  The same as I wanted last night, the same as he wants tonight.  And, once again, I am happy.

>At least, when he has done this week, he will be less busy with work and can concentrate on his flat and painting and decorating and buying the furniture, etc.

And he should start to relax a bit and things should become easier.

Last night, we made a start

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There was, of course, the trip to Ikea and other ‘out of town’ stores for looking at furniture.  Mainly for his new flat but also a wardrobe for mine.

He had the car from work.  He wanted to be there for about 9.30 a.m.  We stayed at his place.  I woke at about 7.30 first but dozed until it got to about 8 or 8.30.  I would have preferred to sleep in and, in fact, he said at one point, that, perhaps, we should go tomorrow.  I replied that if we didn’t do it today we might miss tomorrow and then, next Saturday, he would still be in Germany and really we should get up.  Even if I didn’t want that.

We got up, had coffee and then went to do the dogs.  Once the dogs had been walked, he drove to the first store.

Now, I should remind you that he is not so tall, slightly built and so very sweet, never really getting angry.  Well, that’s not quite true but almost.  He does have very strong opinions about certain things.  Take the Chinese family living next door to him.  He has threatened to kill them several times now.  Last night, with the children screaming and crying and much shouting going on, he finally snapped and went to get a shoe to bang on the wall.  It had the desired effect.

However, generally he is sweet and without real anger.  Until Saturday morning, however.

I have driven with Italians before.  Italians drive in a particular way.  Cutting each other up; Signalling left when they subsequently go right; Stopping suddenly to ‘park’ (we would say double park); Pulling out from a side road in front of you, etc.  It means you really have to pay attention to the traffic and expect the unexpected.  I do use my horn more often than I would in the UK but that’s because it is really one of the only ways you will survive here.

However, generally, I don’t swear and shout at other drivers.  Why would I? What’s the point?  It’s not like they can hear you and it’s not like it would change their driving habits either.  So I remain quite calm.

Other Italians, when I’m in the car, do tend to be more demonstrative when they are driving, both verbally and physically.  However, Saturday was a little different.  F became a different person from the one I knew.  It didn’t scare me or anything like that and he is quite a good driver but, in the half hour or so it took us to get to the first store, I probably heard all the Italian swearwords (and, in fact, a few more that I didn’t know before) and more than once.

As I pointed out to him, it’s a bloody good thing that our first ‘date’ wasn’t him driving me somewhere otherwise I would have thought him a very aggressive and uncontrollable animal.

As it was, because I know that he is only like this when behind the wheel, I found it somewhat amusing.  What amuses me further is that he is a little like this even when I’m driving!  However, not nearly as bad.

Saturday night we were meeting my friend G and going to the Brasserie Bruxelles on Viale Abruzzi.  A & F2 were coming too.

They have a rather excellent selection of beers.  Once again, F proved to be so good, chatting to A & F2 whilst G & I were able to catch up.  G saying that F didn’t really seem like an Italian – a little more Anglicised – and not only because he drank beer like any good Englishman.  G had phoned me to say he had arrived at the station and I told him what bus to get.  The F phoned to say that he was at the station (the car was being taken by another colleague) and could pick G up.  Of course, neither of them had each other’s number so there were a couple of phone calls with me in the middle.  However, F found G, even if they had never met before and then they got to the bar by car

Then we went for a pizza at Al Basilico, just a block down from the bar.

A & F2 were then going home but G wanted us (F & I) to meet R, the new girl in his life and so we went to this bar/restaurant/club place called Shanghai.

G is going back to the UK.  He hates the mentality of the Italians and the fact that it is so difficult to get things done here – every step halted by a wall that always seems impenetrable.  He hates the fact that the Italians are too busy (well, maybe this is particular to the Milanese) looking the part without the substance (which is also how F feels, certainly about Milan).  He’s been here for 10 years.  I explained that, being here for so long, there’s no way that he can go back and live in the UK.  For all that Italy and the Italians may drive you crazy, there are things that will happen in the UK where he will suddenly think how much he misses Italy (and the Italians).

But back to Shanghai.  I hate and loath these places with passion.  A huge hanger-like place.  Far too full of people; all busy being the best there.  We were going for a drink (but really to meet R).  She was very sweet and very, very pretty.  But neither F nor I were really happy about being in that place.  I mean, it’s a place for people that neither of us really like and exactly one of the reasons why G was going back to the UK ….. but he was there only for R, of course!

If I never get to go back to Shanghai again, it will be too soon.

We go home.  His home.  He wants to spend the night at his place because he has to get ready for his trip and because he wants to have Sunday breakfast at the café.  So, maybe, it’s his ‘thing’ too, after all?

We get up late(ish) and go to have breakfast which, as you know, I love doing.

I go and do the dogs, some washing, etc.  He gets ready for the trip.

I get back later and he does dinner.  I have brought wine and moved the car to nearby his place.

We don’t have dinner immediately.  When I arrive, he is getting ready for a bath, having spent some time doing his ‘beauty’ treatment stuff.  He is in his white underpants.  He is incredibly sexy.  I wonder, at one point, why I think he’s incredibly sexy and why does he turn me on so.  I don’t know.  There are things about him, his body, that, ordinarily, I would not find a turn-on and yet, here he is and every single part of him is so sexy.  Even his feet, which I think are beautiful!  I find myself looking at him and wanting him – all the time.  I sit and chat to him as he has a bath, concentrating on the chat to hide the fact that I just want to look at him.

After dinner he does his Farmville thing.  He sits on the chair with his legs crossed under him, without socks.  I sit next to him and stroke his feet.  I have never had any sort of foot fetish but, with him, I think I could!

I go home later to walk the dogs and come back just after 9.  We go to bed early as we are getting up at 5.30 – I’m taking them to the airport.

Neither of us can sleep.  Not because we aren’t tired.  We talk a little.  I tell him that I get paranoid when I’m not with him (about the lack of things in common) and I worry about that because this will be the longest time we’ve been apart.  I tell him that I know it is stupid and he agrees and says there is so much we can learn from each other.  And I know that is true, still, I think he’s starting to understand me and he is more affectionate than normal.  He tells me of the things going on in his head – the reasons he can’t sleep – work, the new flat, the lack of time to do everything.  I tell him not to worry and that everything will be OK and I will help him if he asks and that, at the very worst, he can stay at mine if everything is not ready.  He knows that and says so and says thanks and means it.  And we talk a little more about his actual work and why this trip is important both for him and the company.  And I have a better understanding of why he is where he is within the company.  He had said over the weekend that he will be introducing me to the big boss as his new boyfriend – and I think that he is proud to do so.  And that makes me happy.

He is having the test soon and is worried about that.  I ask him if he wants me to have the test too.  He doesn’t really say but I know that he does.  I tell him that I will do it.  I know it will make him happy.  He asks when I last had the test and I tell him that it was about 22 years ago.  He is shocked but I explain that there was no need.  I was only with V.  He asks if I wasn’t worried that V was with someone else and I said that no, I wasn’t.  And that was true.  at least it was true for the most of it.  Still, I know it will make him happy and he says it would make a big difference (and you can work that out for yourselves).

The Chinese people next door don’t help.

This morning, he says we’ll just have 5 minutes of cuddling before getting up.  Then another five minutes.  Then we get up.

He says he is so appreciative of me taking him to the airport.  I explain that it means extra time with him.  He doesn’t seem to get it – every second with him is like some sort of bonus.  He has said that I should not come and pick him up but agrees to it as I leave them at the airport.

And so, I shall pick him up on Saturday and be glad to do so.

And, in the space of the weekend, he has become even more demonstrably affectionate, as if he is understanding that I am true.  And, even if there is so much more to discuss, at least, last night, we have made a start.

Now we have Christmas and New Year together

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“…then we can spend the night together!”

The voice was hushed and, yet, excited.  Bless him.  Still there is the ‘not running’ thing.  See, that’s what I don’t quite get.  Again, it’s my mild autism coming into play, I guess.  Run!  Don’t Run!  Run!  Don’t Run!

‘Would you like to come to dinner with me and MM [his colleague with whom he goes to Tango lessons on a Monday night] or pick me up after the lesson?’, he asked earlier.

‘I can do both’, I reply – not telling him that every moment I spend out of his presence is a moment too long.

And so, last night, I got home and went almost straight away to pick him up from work.  The plan was that we would go for something to eat, he would go to Tango lessons with MM and then I would drive down about 10.30, pick him up from the lesson and we would go to his house.  I would have taken the dogs out before I left, of course.

The reality was a little different.  First, I went to his office and I quickly tried on a suit jacket – just to see if the standard size fitted me.  It was absolutely perfect!  I am so lucky like that.  He was pleased.  These are samples, made for the buyers.  They come in one size and, very fortunately, it’s my size.  And I mean, so my size it looked like it was tailored just for me.  He said that I could also use his discount as he’s not buying anything this year.  That’s an extra 50% off!

Then, because it was a little early to meet MM, we went for a beer.  We talked about A.  A was funny on Sunday because he felt he should get changed if we were to meet F, which in the end, we didn’t.  I said that F wouldn’t mind and it was fine.  A seemed nervous about meeting F.  F is also nervous about meeting A (and all my other friends).  I explained to F that everyone will love him because he makes me so happy!  This is true, I know.

We went to the restaurant/pizzeria.  MM was already there, on her first beer.  She drinks beer like an English person.  And smokes as much as I do.  I love her already.  We order and, she wants meat but they only do it for 2.  F asks if I will have that and I am pleased to do so.  The meat was perfect.

MM understands English quite well but doesn’t speak it at all.  The conversation is difficult to follow at times but I get most of it.  MM asks if F is going to Austria for Christmas.  He says that no, we are going to R’s birthday dinner and then we shall spend Christmas together.  He turns to me and says ‘Is that OK?’.  I smile and say ‘Of course, that’s OK’.  In my head I am already dancing on the table!

MM says that perhaps we should go to Vienna for New Year.  F thinks this is a good idea and says we could drive there.  It’s his birthday just after New Year.  It would be nice.  I say that this would be lovely but I have to sort out the dogs.  He understands.

We have another beer each at the restaurant and then go outside for a cigarette.  They talk about Tango.  The problem is that F (and MM) will miss the next two weeks.  MM suggests that, as they are supposed to pay this week, it seems quite mad that they are going anyway – missing so many lessons already.

They decide that they won’t go after all.  MM suggests going for a drink.  She lives not far from me.  We walk up towards Via Eustachi.  We go to Bar Aurore on Via Castelmorone.  This is one of the more famous bars in Milan.  Very old fashioned and, to me, it seems almost French in style.

We order beers.  We talk.  Occasionally we go outside for a cigarette.  I try to talk Italian with MM.  F smiles (almost laughs) as I am talking.  I stop and ask why he is laughing at me.  He explains (mainly to MM) that this is the first time he has heard me speak Italian, which is probably true and it’s not wrong just strange to him.

We have several more beers.  I go to the bathroom.  Afterwards, F explains that, whilst I was in the bathroom, MM had exclaimed ‘Why, F, you never told me he was gorgeous!  If he wasn’t gay I would be interested in him!’  I think this pleases him.  I like MM very much (apart from the beer drinking and smoking) – she is lovely.  I think she likes me too.  I think I’m doing OK!

I have to go and walk the dogs.  He says we should walk the dogs together.  I am happy about that, except that, when I rushed out, I left the cleaner doing the ironing and knew there would be ironing left all over the lounge, the bedroom with sheets not changed; I had no idea that he would come over tonight!

I try to explain that the house will be a mess and why it will be so.

We get home.  He loves the dogs although Dino is, as usual with someone new, over excited.  We take them out.  We get back.  We go to bed.  We talk.  I so love having him with me.  I just so love it.

Again he talks about going slowly.  I wonder at what point that will change.  He explains why (again) and I do understand.  But then there are the Christmas and New Year arrangements.  But these all come from him.  I cannot make suggestions (I feel) as I do not know how fast/slow such arrangement-making is!

This morning, I get up early but let him sleep in whilst I take the dogs out.  I go back and make coffee and then have a shower.  I explain how, next time, I will alter the arrangements and have a shower before coffee so that he can get up later.

Dino is over excited as normal.  He really likes Rufus, who is quiet and calm.  But I think he likes Dino also.  Dino will be calmer when he gets used to him.  I must remember to tell him that.

I drive him home.  He says that he can catch a bus.  I tell him that no way and, anyway, this is on my way to work.  He is ready to get out at Piazza Loretto but I say that I will drive him up to his house.  He says that the traffic will be bad for me.  I say it is far to early and it will be fine and point this out as we drive towards his place.  I am right.

I drop him off.  We kiss, briefly before he gets out of the car and blow kisses to each other as he walks to his building.  He says he will call me.

Now we have Christmas and New Year together.

I see him Monday night!

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He says he will show me on Monday. I guess it means that after a weekend ‘apart’ at night, Monday we may (will) be together :-)

Even if I can’t keep doing it, I shall, of course.

Being apart from him is hard. Even as I write this, I can smell him; feel him; want him.

>Need him? Not sure about that. There’s a thing about ‘need’ that is different. Not sure I’m there yet.

Of course, his world is very different from mine. He lives in the ‘fashion’ world. I said the other night that I knew nothing of that ‘world’ – he responded that it was a good thing that I knew nothing about it. Since many gay people here live in that world, I wonder if V is there too and if he is enjoying it. I hope so. I keep meaning to ask him but forget. Just like, yesterday, I forgot to ask if he had quit smoking, given his current health issues.

FfI asked today if F had seen pictures of V. I don’t remember if he has or not. I’m not sure why she asked. To me it’s not that important. F is not V and V is not F. I am with F and not with V, nor will I ever be with V again, in that way. I mean, if F wants to see a picture of V then OK. If not then fine.

Last night was the dinner with the ‘friends’, R and Al. Actually, they were really nice and easy to get on with. We went to a new restaurant and I forgot to pick up the card, so can’t really give you the details. The food was excellent although the service left a little to be desired. Still, starters and mains with 2 bottles of wine between 5 and sweets and the total per head was €30 per head so not so bad. I had a boar stew thing which was really lovely.

Then, AfL, F and I went to a bar for a drink. A friend of AfL’s was there. They chatted in Italian and, to be honest I didn’t get most of it…..sometimes I just switch off. However, F said something to AfL’s friend and I didn’t really understand (and he wouldn’t really explain) – the thing being “I cut your hands”. Those of you who are Italian, perhaps you can explain what it is. We don’t have that in the UK and although I asked F what it meant he just kept repeating it…….but I’m sure it had another meaning.

F asked what I was going to buy in Fox Town (where I go today with A). I said that I might buy a suit as I really need one. F suggested that, if I don’t see one, then I should try his place sometime this month where I will be able to get one at a huge discount. Showroom stock. I’m not sure about this particular designer – never been that keen but, I guess I should have a look. I think it will be classic stuff (for suits anyway) so it might be OK.

We talked about him meeting my friends. He said it would be embarrassing because I will have told them he is gorgeous and handsome and he is not – well, except to me. I suppose he has a point – sort of. Although, I don’t think I’ve actually said that to my friends – but I might have.

Apparently he didn’t say anything to his friends other than ‘I’m seeing this guy’. AfL said that I wasn’t like they expected – but as I don’t know what they expected, it’s difficult to know what that means! She added that I was nothing like S, his previous long-term partner – well, yes, I know that – and I’m certainly not in the fashion industry, nor camp, nor anything like your standard gay man – I guess.

Hopefully we shall be back early enough from Fox Town that we can go for something to eat/a drink with F and AfL – maybe with A as well – that will be the first of my friends, here, that he should meet – although ideally, he should meet Best Mate first, ‘cos she is Best Mate, after all!

AfL also wants us to go to London for a weekend. F said that the company had a flat in the city or near the city we could use. Sounds nice. Also R has his birthday on 24th December and holds a dinner that evening. F said he would be staying in Milan this Christmas and, so we can go. It’s all long(ish) term stuff. It gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling. And I can’t explain, well not in words that really explain, how I feel when I’m with him – how he makes me feel – how happy I am and I’m pretty sure he feels the same – I mean 99% sure.

Anyway, I see him Monday night!

The Fashion World of Milan – means nothing; Doubts and order

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It’s strange.  Since V & I split, I have come into contact with more people in the fashion world than I ever did with V.  Well, I suppose it’s not that strange, really.  After all this is one of the great fashion cities of the world and there is, most probably, a higher proportion of gay people working in that industry than, say, the one I work in, Engineering.  And now I’m ‘out and about’, I meet the people who work for the names that we all know.

Interesting; and I hope V is doing the same because this was the world he always wanted – although it would be slightly ironic if he wasn’t meeting these people and I, much less interested than he, were.  I mean, for him, someone working for, say, Dolce & Gabanna, would be highly interesting, for me, it’s just a name and, unless they are Mr Dolce, really, of no interest in its own right.  He would ‘use’ the connection, for me it’s just like working for, say, Marks and Spencers.

I start having doubts.  This is based on a previous experience.  Am I just wanting him because it is ‘somebody'; a warm body; it could be any ‘body’?  Is it like that?  He makes me laugh, he is funny, he is nice, he has a great body (even if he doesn’t think so), he’s not incredibly handsome but it is a nice face – but…..will it be enough….will there be other things I like but, more importantly, will there be things I hate or are there already things I hate that will become ugly?  I want him but is that because he is available rather then I really want him?  I wish he were here, with me, so I could find out.

I keep two things in my wallet.  One is the card that Gordon gave me the night before last and the other is the piece of paper, torn from the notebook with the designer’s name on the bottom, for whom he works, on which he ‘scribbled’ the name of the pub for the previous night and the directions to get there.  Except they weren’t scribbled.  They are meticulously written words and a drawn map.

Normally, I struggle to read Italians’ writing.  His is immaculate, tidy, ordered, done with such care (I watched him do it).  It is beautiful writing.  I’m not sure that anything he does is unordered.  Everything is so perfect, so tidy.

I wonder if that is something I could live with?  And, whether he could live with me….but he says that, at first, with his ex, who is also a blue-eyed, British Taurean, he briefly put their clothes together in the wardrobe.  Later he split them as everything had to be ordered for him – so much like V but worse.  Or maybe that was why V came first, to get me more used to the idea?  Gordon says he is used to someone not as tidy as he is.  Maybe it will be a problem for him?

He had a dog when he was a kid.  And he is looking after a dog on the weekend after next or the one after that.  But, with my two?  With the fact that, really, the house should be cleaned every day; that nothing can be left within the reach of Dino; that, if they’re ill, it’s not pleasant – how does he cope with that in the ordered world of his?

He likes the bathroom, the cleanest place in the house, maybe?  He used to do his homework in the bathroom – it was his favourite place.

I take out the note, just to study how tidy and perfectly it is done.  It’s a scrap of paper but more like an artwork.

Maybe I will frame it :-)

In Como with true friends.

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In_Como_with_true_friends

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before

Hotel California – The Eagles

And the conversation over dinner in this rather nice and not so expensive pizzeria, in some square in Como, was a distraction from the current feeling and A was very concerned and, what’s more, I could see it in his eyes. For all that I complain about him, I could tell that this was true and that, even if he thinks I am some sort of alien, he does, really, actually, care about me as a friend. And I am grateful for that.

He has said he will call me from his holiday to check up on me and see how things are going.

I am supported by friends and, even if they cannot take this away from me, it is good to know that if or when I crash and burn, they will be there.

We had been to Fox Town, as I mentioned a couple of posts ago. I had wandered round Iceberg and found a very nice, blue suede jacket/shirt thing. I tried it on because it was so nice. It had the outlet price as half of the original but was just way out of my range and I wouldn’t have paid so much.

I had put it back on the rail and had wandered around more of the store, picking things up, giving a cursory glance, putting the stuff back. Neither caring nor interested, really, in what I was doing.

A came over to explain why they were taking so long. It seemed that the 60 or 70% sticker was the extra discount, not on the original price but on the discounted price. At first I didn’t believe him. But he insisted. So I went round to the rail on which this blue shirt/jacket was and calculated how much it was now.

It’s one thing that V has given me. I know that, this thing, although only a thing and, therefore, not important, can be worn for years and still look good. So, suddenly the price was not only affordable but, for something that will be worn so much, well worth it. I was very happy about it, as much as I could be given the circumstances – and it was the first time I have bought something that I didn’t strictly need for about 3 years.

After shopping, we were to have gone to Lugano but because it was late, we went to Como instead, somewhere I have never visited before (although I have been on a train through the station).

We sat and had aperos overlooking the Duomo and then went to the pizzeria which had been recommended. The pizza was good – not the best – but good. I’m sorry but I forgot to take a card so I cannot tell you the name.

And there, rather than pooh-pooh my story, which, in any event was difficult to explain and posed as many questions as it gave answers, is where A showed how genuine he was; how understanding; how much of a friend he was.

His advice coincides with my plan. I don’t know whether it’s the right thing to do but it is the only thing I can do. The only question now is ‘how’?

However, right now, with this tiredness and the situation, I could burst into tears – which is certainly not a very blokish thing to do – but I can tell I am only a step away from that. Let’s hope I can keep it together until I get home, at least.

I slip on a pair of old jeans

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I_slip_on_a_pair_of_old_jeans

Fashion. Like modern art, I like what I like. The problem for me is that, when I like something, I like it a lot and for much longer than I probably should. So, I tend to keep things even if they don’t really fit or are just “out of fashion”.

Some things, of course, are beyond the fashion of any particular time. They have an elegance and style that may never have been the height of fashion but, in any event, will never really be out of style – ever.

I have some things like that. In the “good old days” when we had money, they were expensive but have proved to have been worth every penny, since they have been worn time and time again, in different guises, and have been made so well that they still look as if they were bought more recently.

Some years ago, with my first foray into Iceberg (one of my favourite labels), I found a pair of jeans in Harvey Nichols in London that I just had to have. Unfortunately, they only seemed to have bought one size of each pair and my true size had already gone but the size down were there, being tried on by some guy. We waited as he umm’d and ah’d about whether he really liked them or whether they really fitted him.

Eventually, he put them back on the shelf and it was all I could do to not snatch them up before they had actually touched the shelf. I tried them on and, although they felt more like a second skin, took them anyway.

After about a year of living here I found I had gained a little weight until, unfortunately, they were just too tight to do up the top button.

And then you bring love and break-up into it, for certainly, when you are in the first stages of love it seems (or has done for me) that it sheds pounds although I do not feel that I eat less. This is true for break-ups.

And so, after the move, I find these pair of jeans, ironed and ready to wear and tonight, as I am off out with friends for a pizza I thought I would try them on.

They fit perfectly and as they remain my favourite pair of jeans ever and they still look as if I bought them this season (apart from the fact that there are no jeans this season that are like them – to be honest, even when I bought them I never did see anyone else wearing them either in the UK or in Milan), I am wearing them as I wait for my friends to call to say they have arrived. I guess I’ll be wearing them a lot this summer. I am so happy about that as they look really good with a T-shirt and sandals!

I can even call them “vintage” jeans now! Whoah, yes!