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Fuorisalone is a marvelous little game. It is a self-organized self-service marketing. An erotic game of the Po Valley industries, of vain projects. It is a beautiful liberal anarchy, a peaceful battle fought through press releases, events, parties and spot lights. It is perhaps the more dynamic and vital aspect of our country, this proliferating of medium sized businesses, the industry of beauty, the futile, the game. And in this invasive anarchy that occupies this city, a capital of this Italy, there is something really special and unique, in this country of parasites and revenue. It is the beauty of the battle, made of squadrons, heroes, myths, Ulysses, bosses, women, inventions and plunders. The beauty of live capitalism, the beauty of the concept of projects and production the of objects, of imagination and fulfilment. The idea of invention, organization, making, doing, selling: may the best one win.

You end up forgiving everything, even the hedonistic and cowardly side of it all. The carpet salesman, the lost nordic faces, those big eyeglass frames that please the latest fashion trend, high heels and low butts at yet another vernissage. Forgive everything. Because there is no question here: this Italy, that stirs up a stampede, better stall maniacs, than the stale air that suffocates the rest of the country.