My own private room

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[Titta di Girolamo’s duds: an untitled review - Ed. ]

What can we learn about dressing from Titta di Girolamo, protagonist of the polished gem that is Le conseguenze dell'amore (2004), and one of the best dressed characters in recent (contemporary) movie history? Well, for instance, that some tired clichés about style actually make sense, while others actually are bullshit.

To start with the latter: any style writer, self-proclaimed dandy or brainwashed iGent (is that a pleonasm?) will tell you that in order to dress well, you should have some fun with it, not take it too seriously, allow a bit of whimsy. Now Titta, who has effectively been held prisoner in a Lugano hotel room for eight years, serving as an errand boy between his Mafia masters and their Swiss bankers, is a thoroughly joyless human being. As played by the brilliant Toni Servillo, with gloomy eyes behind heavy spectacles and the corners of his mouth turned eternally downwards, he is - by his own words - a man without frivolity. So why should he be considered a better dresser than us, who try to dress not only with care but with some expression of our unique personalities and joie de vivre?

The first reason has to do with one cliché that actually rings true: clothes make the man. Titta di Girolamo dresses exquisitely, by which I mean expensively. Suits by Kiton, shirts by Anna Matuozzo, Ballantyne rollneck sweaters and E. Marinella ties - reading the movie’s end credits will gratify the brand fetishist in each of us. So what if his suits don’t fit as precisely as they might, or if his ties are tied rather carelessly? He spends more on a single piece of knitwear than most of us do on shoes, so he looks better. A little luxury goes a long way.

The second reason is that Titta uses basic good taste when choosing what to wear. This sounds simple enough and in fact should be within our reach, but good taste is the first thing to go out the window in favour of our preoccupation with self-expression. And almost invariably, we have nothing to show for it.

Why then, does Titta dress the way he does? This is probably stretching it a bit (as is this entire piece, but whatever, I’m having fun writing it), but I think it’s a largely unconscious act of defiance towards his omnipotent masters. Sure, Titta is required to look respectable, so as not to raise eyebrows when dropping off his million-dollar suitcases at the bank. The Mafia has reduced him to a lonely automaton, who shoots heroin every Wednesday at exactly 10 am, to further dull his emotions. Even Titta himself believes he is dead inside; the movie is about how wrong he is and the consequences this has for his life. He has passions, buried deep inside, that will not be denied.

Watch the positively rakish way he holds his cigarette, while climbing the stairs to his room. In anyone else this would be an affectation (this is me paying homage to my host milstil, whose most prolific affectation is his use of the word ‘affectation’). But Titta di Girolamo’s stylish gesture serves to please only himself, the irrepressable aesthete within. Likewise, he covers himself in layers of luxurious fabric. How others see him is of no concern, his ego having been erased by his miserable reality.

Which brings us to the third and foremost reason why Titta is a superior dresser: he doesn’t give a shit anymore. Not giving a shit is the surest way to look good.

Dressing without ego, without posturing, is impossible for us self-satisfied narcissists. We like to think our 'style’ reflects who we are, but we only betray our more pathetic aspirations and delusions by way of our dress. We should realise, if not accept, that we will never overcome this fact - at least not without becoming as wretched a creature as Di Girolamo. Then again, it really wouldn’t hurt to try.

-Velponi