Mannequins come in a variety of fashions: cheerful, sexy, haughty, and even thoughtful. Some don’t have faces to make their clothes stand out, while others are missing limbs: if you don’t sell shoes, feet are irrelevant. We may remember statues, but our mind never safekeeps human-form hangers: they are less important than the clothes they were given to wear.
Revolution begins here, in the cliff-hanging medieval town of Orvieto.
It starts from a boutique window on its shop-packed high street, which is the main conduit for visitors trudging to Orvieto’s main cathedral:
People freeze in front of it. They plunge into contemplation. Anyone with a modicum of commercial savvy should put a chair in front of this window and charge Rodin’s Thinker fee for ten minutes of reflection.
A depressed, disheveled, lost and almost suicidal dummy looking away from the other, very usual type of plastic women, offers customers a rare opportunity to ask themselves if the tens of thousands of photos they’ve taken on their tour of Italy made them happier.
“Get off the bus – Walk to the cathedral – Listen to the local version of art history – Have a ten-minute hygienic break – Walk back to the bus – Hop back on it – Ride off to another cliff-hanging medieval town.”
Yes, that’s the usual 1.5-hour touristic mission in Orvieto.
Does it make people happier?
Or, perhaps, it is better to roam the streets, try a dozen varieties of local wines, meet new people, learn more about the artist who had painted the frescoes that sent a slight shudder up your spine?
I like my travels cooked slow.
What about you?