I started this blog in 2007. Initially I called it “thoughts and literary ramblings of an Italian in London” but a decade later that title doesn’t suit me any more. So I changed it to “of a Londoner from Italy”. Because that’s what we, people who’ve chosen London as our home, Londoners. The most amazing thing about the citizens of this city is that they can come in any shape, colour, age, accent and religion. This is the strength of this place, a strength that is at this very moment in history threatened because of fear. Fear of recession, fear of terrorism, fear of migrants. Instead of looking for the roots of these events – political strategies, greed, useless wars – a growing number of people in the UK, helped by certain press, have decided to use “foreigners” as scapegoats. Threatening what really has always made Britain, a Great Britain: its openness, its ability to learn from different cultures, its willingness to experiment.
But London is different. Londoners are different. We hear dozens of languages spoken every day and we don’t care. We see people dressed in the most absurd way and it’s ok. My boyfriend lives next to a 65 years old transsexual who roams the streets of South London on a bike dressed in miniskirt and fake boobs and a blond wig. People giggle sometimes but mostly he just goes about his business happy and undisturbed. I can’t imagine many places in the world where that could be possible.
So, as a Londoner, I’m here to talk about this city, about its challenges and its idiosyncrasies, the things I love and those that drive me insane. As an actress, I’m also sharing funny episodes of my life, because acting isn’t all that glamorous, trust me… And as somebody who did live the first part of her life somewhere else I also dedicate some posts to Italy and Italians, mostly poking fun at them but always with my tongue in my cheek. Regarding this, I have been often accused by British people to hate Britain when I criticise it, and by Italians to hate Italy when I make fun of it. I obviously don’t hate the only two places I’ve ever considered home, or I would be masochistic and quite stupid. I believe that we feel entitled to public mock the people we love. Because we know them, because it’s obvious that we care about it. It’s like mothers moaning about their kids, they don’t have them, they sometimes feel exasperated by them but if they go on and on about their flaws it’s because they CARE. I talk about people and things I care about. If you can’t get it, if you can’t take irony, I’m truly sorry. I’m not your kind of person. I always look at the funny side of things. And the person I mock the most is myself. I really don’t take myself or this blog that seriously and if you think I write out of hatred, well, it probably says most about you than about me.