In July 2017, I wrote anarticleabout toplessness forVogueItalia.
The rest is history.
In thatVoguearticle, I chatted with designerAlessandro Micheleabout a shared memory of our favorite topless beaches of our youth.
The Birth of Venusby Sandro Botticelli, c. 1486.
In the 90s, growing up in Italy, naked breasts were everywhere and nobody thought anything about it.
Indeed, I felt the same way.
My relationship with toplessness was part of a very democratic cultural status quo.
No hierarchies were established.
In general, there was very little naked breast censorship.
Free nipples appeared on magazine covers at newsstands, whether tabloids or art and fashion magazines.
A lot has changed since those days, but also since that initial 2017 piece.
Naked dressing seems to be much more popular than naked being.
The majority ofAnthony Vaccarellos fall 2024 collectionwas mostly transparent.
And even off the runway, guests at the Saint Laurent show matched the mood.
I loved her simple sexy style, with her otherworldly smile, the hair tied back in a bun.
But today nudity feels loaded in different ways.
It was fundamental for me to include a Madonna Lactans from a historical perspective.
I spoke to Pasti about my recent musings on naked breasts, which she shared in a deep way.
Her main concern today is around censorship.
So when did we stop?
When did Micheles era of un-beauty end?
Two moms, plus our four children, two girls and two boys of the same ages.
Lets make an experiment of this and see what happens, I proposed.
The kids all yawned, but my friend was up for it.
In my memory, the Roman nudist beaches often equated to encounters with promiscuous strangers behind the dunes.
I found a nude-friendly beach on the banks of the Farfa River, in the rolling Sabina hills.
We piled into my friends car and drove out.
The kids were all whining about the experiment.
We dont want to see naked mums!
Cant you just lie andsayyou went to a nudist beach?
All around us were huge trees and gigantic leaves.
It had rained a lot recently and the vegetation had grown incredibly.
We walked past the remains of a Roman road.
The colors all around were bright green, the sky almost fluorescent blue.
The kids got sidetracked by the presence of frogs.
According to the indications, the beach was about a mile up the river.
Halfway down the path, we bumped into a couple of young guys in fanny packs.
I asked if we were headed in the right direction to go to the beach.
A group of girls was there, sharing headphones and listening to music.
To my dismay they were all wearing the tops and bottoms of their bikinis.
One of them was in a full-piece bathing suit and shorts.
See, they are all wearing bathing suits.
hey dont be the weird mums who dont.
At this point, it was a matter of principle.
The boys stayed on the beach with full clothes and shoes on, horrified.
The girls went in behind us with their bathing suits.
Are you happy now?
Did you prove your point?
I didnt really know what my point actually was.
I think a part of me wanted to feel entitled to those long-gone decades of naturalism.
I would always fight for an authentic topless experience.
Once a free breast, always a free breast.
This article was originally published onBritish Vogue.
