Chapter 2 - Ponte alla Carraia
Updated: Oct 15, 2020
“Si, si, si!”
“I’m going to the market to look at buttons.”
“Okay, okay. Andare avanti.”
Mama never really cared where Alba went or what she did, but it made Alba feel like Alba Bianchi Alta Moda was more of a serious business if she could tell people her agenda and plans for the day. Until they could find her an assistant who would keep her calendar and update everyone, this was a ritual she’d continue with for the time being.
Alba gathered her lightweight spring jacket in a loosely woven cotton Ikat pattern of violets, blues, and black as there was still a chill in the early morning Florentine air and grabbed her handbag and portfolio. She never went to an appointment, or even to shop the markets, without her portfolio or at least a small sketchbook. There was always something to inspire, always something to note, always something to spark a dream when walking the streets of this ancient, beautiful, and storied Italian town that Alba so dearly loved. If there was anything that could be said to be true about Alba, it was that she was Florentine through and through.
Alba was a very routinized woman. She did things in the same way so she didn’t have to think about how to structure her day, leaving her more time to think about collections and fabrics and her network of friends. Or, more accurately, clients. Some of whom had become friends.
Her tour of the fabric stores was very close to the same every day. She like that sense of control and power over her time and life by knowing what to expect each day. Her forays into the fabric market always started over the Ponte Alla Carraia bridge, which crosses the Arno River - lifeblood of Florence.