March 8th. International woman’s day. For some reason, likely related to the infallible power of the patriarchy that brought me up, this day brings the vague memory of the strange tradition, celebrated for the first time in my childhood: roses, cheesy words, empty phrases about female power. A tradition

My relationship with fashion dates back to the early childhood. Dressed in floral ensembles with glittery boots of matching colours, a tiny bow decorating the bob haircut I—to the horror of my mother—had insisted on getting, I daydreamed about becoming like the empowered, stylish woman that brought me up: always immaculately