Blending Magazine – Page 2 – Finding Florence

Mystery Meets Mixology

The Evolution of Florence’s Hidden Bars and the Art of Underground Mixology

written by Trinity Conner, Molly FitzGerald, Olivia Adams, Lila Williams & Marisa Jones

This blog feature is an exclusive bonus installment to our Spring issue of Blending Magazine. After you finish reading, be sure to explore the rest of the magazine online—just follow this link to download the full Spring 2025 edition:
https://jschoolfua.com/images/BM/BM_151.pdf

Florence’s artistic spirit isn’t confined to its galleries and historic cafés; it also spills into the city’s underground secret bars—modern-day echoes of Prohibition speakeasies—where secrecy, craftsmanship, and storytelling converge into a singular drinking culture. The hidden bars, like the literary cafés of the past, create an underground atmosphere of exclusivity and creativity, elevating mixology to an art form.

The evolution of Florence’s modern hidden bar scene highlights how these establishments mirror the city’s avant-garde movements by reinventing tradition. Behind unmarked doors and secret entrances, guests enter spaces that showcase both history and innovation.

The underground nightlife of the 1980s has evolved into today’s hidden bar scene, shaped by the rise of cocktail culture and modern mixology. One key example of this evolution is Rasputin, Florence’s first hidden bar, discreetly tucked away in Santo Spirito. This underground cellar, with its candlelit tables, antique furnishings, and a rules page on the menu, transports visitors to a vintage atmosphere where handcrafted cocktails strike a balance between tradition and innovation.

Taking a visit to Rasputin feels like traveling back in time, allowing individuals to feel immersed in rich history. Maintaining a strict no-phone policy, discouraging excessive phone usage, and flash photography to keep the experience authentic. These policies enforce full presence, something that is rare in today’s digital world. The hushed conversations, the clinking of glasses, and the soft jazz music in the background make it feel like stepping into another era.

Marco Vinci and Ghermai Zerazion, the co-founders of this hidden gem, came up with the idea to bring a seamless combination of America’s past and present to Florence, Italy. During Prohibition in the United States, the production, sale, and transportation of alcoholic beverages were outlawed. As a result, clandestine bars, now known as speakeasies, sprang up across the country. Therefore, these tucked-away spots were places where people could socialize, dance, and drink bootleg whiskey and gin, despite the looming threat of raids, arrests, and jail time. The consequences were harsh, but the desire was irresistible. Rasputin allows individuals from all over the world an immersive experience of life during this time.

The cocktail menu is as thoughtfully crafted as the space itself, offering a mix of classic recipes with modern twists. The standout for us is “Our Bee’s Knees,” a drink that combines honey, lemon, and lavender into a refreshing and balanced flavor. The foam on top added a nice touch, making it feel both indulgent and relaxing.

The bar also has an impressive selection of over 300 labels, including a wide range of whiskeys, which made the menu feel like more than just a list of drinks—it is an opportunity to learn and explore. Overall, it is a place where the drinks and the atmosphere come together in a way that feels both approachable and special.

Rasputin isn’t just a speakeasy; it’s a hidden world that combines history, mystery, and artistry. If you are looking for a night that blends sophistication with a touch of secrecy, this is a must-visit while in Florence.

Beyond Rasputin, other hidden gems like Vanilla Club Speakeasy capture the charm of the Prohibition era with its password-protected entrance, dark wood interiors, and soft jazz music. The bar’s strict no-phone policy encourages people to experience expertly crafted, Italian-inspired cocktails in an intimate setting.

Beneath Grand Hotel Cavour, The Secret Bar offers an underground lounge experience framed by exposed brick arches and antique chandeliers. Florence’s culture inspires The Secret Bar’s menu, so they transform cocktails into stories that reflect the city’s artistic evolution.

Florence’s hidden bars are more than just places to sip cocktails, they are doorways to another time, where history lines the dimly lit walls and mixology becomes an artful performance. Like the literary cafés of the past, these speakeasies craft narratives with every pour, which blends tradition with innovation in a way that holds Florence’s charm.

Whether you find yourself behind the unmarked doors of Rasputin, sharing secret passwords at Vanilla Club, or uncovering the meaning of The Secret Bar, each visit is an invitation to step beyond the normal. In a city known for preserving its artistic heritage, Florence’s underground bars prove that history isn’t just something to admire; it’s something to taste and experience, one cocktail at a time.

Florentine Streets, Clet’s Canvas

written & photographed by Kathleen Morris

How many stories can a single office avocado tell?

As I set my laptop onto Clet Abraham’s cluttered desk, I took inventory of its miscellaneous contents: an avocado, a glass with a solitary drop of red wine left behind and an array of art supplies – pencils, cutting tools and scattered pages filled with cartoonish sketches.

I set my cellphone atop a strip of stickers depicting bright pink sausages, thumb hovering over the record button – ready to capture every bit of wisdom from the infamous street artist who I was face-to-face with at last.

The conversation was highly anticipated. Earlier that morning, after exchanging a flurry of WhatsApp messages with an employee at his Florence studio—including a pointed warning not to address him by his full name, Jean-Marie Clet Abraham—I stepped into the cluttered space – I made the trek across Ponte alle Grazie to his studio on a sun-soaked Monday afternoon.

Tiptoeing down the sidewalk, I realized I didn’t need to consult Google Maps to know I had arrived. I followed a wall plastered in a chaotic assortment of stickers – a street artist’s rendition of the yellow brick road.

My instincts were conﬁrmed by the street sign placed just above the door, reimagined to depict a tiny ﬁgure ﬂying through the air, its grip tight on the tip of the white arrow.

The use of street signs has become a trademark of Clet’s art.

Originally from France, Clet has now claimed Florence itself as his canvas.

I first encountered his work by the Medici Palace. With crooked eyes and a corkscrew neck, a portrait of childhood whimsy is plastered onto a traffic sign, its head formed by diverging arrows. In the following days, I began to train my vision to spot Clet’s characters tucked into every corner of this historic city.

My article joins countless attempts to profile the elusive artist, who has earned celebrity status (and over 160k Instagram followers) in a destination that echoes with the voices of the Renaissance.

I sought to understand the path of the man who sat across from me, salt-and-pepper hair draped across his forehead and backdropped by a wall of unfinished masterpieces.

The son of creative parents, he recalled his earliest inclination to art.

“When I was young, I used art to be free,” Clet said. “I don’t care about art. I care about freedom.”

Today, his urban installations serve as an outlet for self-expression and a medium for political commentary. With a rebellious flair, he inspires dialogue about pressing social issues and individual rights. Behind his desk, a sign was spray-painted with the colors of the Palestinian flag. The artwork, created in collaboration with the Art for Gaza Collective, exemplifies Clet’s efforts to garner a reaction from and activate the public.

“I don’t think I am the owner of my ideas,” he mused, reflecting on the essence of collaboration he shares with those who engage with his work. “The ideas pass through me,” he said, describing his ability to sculpt messages and inspire his community to think outside the box.

Clet refuses to be conﬁned by artistic boundaries, finding fulfillment in working beyond the walls of traditional museums.

“I don’t work with galleries,” he underscored. “The best place is always the street.”

Clet navigates the gray area between creating impactful art and defacing public spaces. The allure of street art lies in the ambiguity of this ruleless game – a game that Clet has mastered on a global scale, often operating under the cover of night.

“In the United States, I always [install art] at night because I don’t want the police to stop me,” he revealed. “I don’t want to have a big problem and lose my plane ticket to go back home.”

In a perfect world, city authorities would recognize the positive aspects of his work. He imagines that increased acceptance would act like a “business card,” allowing him to explore cities that are “more difficult, where there is less democracy.”

Until then, Clet can be found cloaked in darkness or in the safety of his studio at Via dell’Olmo, 8r in Florence.

Before I exited his sticker-clad oasis, I gathered two pieces of advice from Clet for aspiring artists: embrace your originality, and when working on the streets, it’s best to be a little drunk.

For more information, visit Clet’s website or follow Clet on Instagram (@cletabraham).

Are you guys Nazi’s?

written by Lilly Vergnes

Lorenzo Carollo grew up in the northern part of Italy, in a small town near Verona. He followed the typical life path of an Italian teen, adding some illegal graffiti work in the mix. After high school, he went on to study History in Padova. You might wonder what kind of hobbies and activities one gets up to in rural northern Italy. For Carollo, he did not have to look far. He works in a mechanical factory, takes an interest in medieval history, plays the bagpipe, and in recent years has become a Skinhead. He has his hair cut short, wears boots and bomber jackets and goes to as many concerts as he can. This is also where I met him, at a concert at the Centro Popolare Autogestito (CPA) in Florence. I personally go to the CPA for its cheap beer and good music. Little did I know, that night’s concert was being played and attended by Skinheads. My first thought and question when I heard ‘Skinhead’ was, Are you guys Nazi’s? They all laughed, and Carollo started to explain the Skinhead movement to me over the loud music.

Skinheads originated in Britain in the ‘60s. They were primarily influenced by Mod and the Jamaican Rudeboy subcultures, with a working-class pride and rejection of conservatism at the time. The original Skins had a lot of influences from Jamaican music and culture, such as Ska and Reggae. Later, in the ‘80s, a Punk aspect was introduced to the movement, with the working class Punk Rock Oi!. This was then mixed with the Jamaican genres from the previous generation, which was referred to as 2Tone. If these are the origins of the movement, then why do we only now associate Skinheads with white supremacists?

During that same time in the ‘80s, the movement split up into two very distinct directions: far-right and left/apolitical. Britain’s political climate was precarious, and far-right supporters saw the Skinhead subculture as an opportunity to express their ideology. This spread fast, and by the ‘90s, neo-Nazi and fascist groups existed all over Europe and North America.

photo by Lilly Vergnes
photo by Lilly Vergnes

This is the image we still associate Skinheads with today in the mainstream mindset. However, a reaction to these right-winged groups quickly started. The movement known as Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice (SHARP) was created as an anti-fascist and anti-racist group. Today, they are considered an extension of the original Skinhead culture, the ‘real’ Skins. Skinheads completely deny the fascist groups as part of the movement, even refusing to call them ‘skinheads’ but ‘boneheads’ instead. The Skinheads main ideals are inherently left-wing, although some of them identify as apolitical.

Carollo first became familiar with Skinheads through some people he knew from high school. As a teen, he was interested in forming his own opinions on political matters. He was approached by some guys from a far-right Skinhead group in Vicenza, who wanted him to potentially join their group. After listening to some of the things they had to say, Carollo decided that their opinions did not align with his morals at all. He had a good friend who was black, whom he knew to be a good person, so he thought: how could it be true that all black people were bad? He made up his mind and began associating himself with people from the anti-fascist side of the movement: Skins from a smaller group called the Reggae Lads. Their ideas and morals lined up much more with his own, as he explained, “I could never understand why you would decide to hate. If you see a black man walking on the street who is smiling, you can’t be happy for him just because of the color of his skin? This is so stupid to me.”

As for myself, I never realized that Skinheads are not what we see in the mainstream media. In reality, it seems like a subculture like many others, with their music, fashion and ideals, even ideals that most people could get behind. They are just as much, if not more, against neo-Nazi’s and facism as anyone else. In some way, they are the ones that are trying to make a positive change in the world.

photo by Lilly Vergnes
photo by Lilly Vergnes
photo by Lilly Vergnes

Hidden but Not a Secret: The Underground World of Mercato delle Cascine

A historic open-air market where Florentines gather to sell and find clothes, food, household items, and anything else you could possibly imagine. There is a vintage presence along with a modernized vision occurring here.

written by Meredith Simpson, Amelia Mora, Alaura Cross, Sabrina Harris & Katie Brooks

As you enter the 1.5-kilometer-long market, the hum of bargaining surrounds you–an elderly woman haggles over schiacciata bread while a mother negotiates the price of pecorino cheese. The freshly roasted porchetta drifts through the air, mixing with the scent of sun-warmed leather from handcrafted belts displayed on a nearby stall. The sight of endless crowds moving between stalls, clutching canvas bags brimming with colorful produce, is overwhelming. A sense of curiosity stirs inside from the “offerta €1.50” signs. You wonder: Is this an authentic Italian bargain or just a tourist trap?

Il Mercato delle Cascine is the largest and cheapest open-air market in Florence, with its origins traced back to the 19th century. The market started as a place for Florentines to gather weekly to buy necessities at a bargain price. It is located in the biggest park in Florence, Parco delle Cascine, along the Arno River, and remains in the same location. During the ‘80s, the market stood as a place for authentic Italian vendors to come and sell their products to locals. The market’s products reflected Italian craftsmanship, and vendors were often Florentine families who had been selling for generations. Vendors and customers knew each other, and shopping here felt like an extension of local culture rather than a transaction. The market fulfilled every need, from groceries to clothing and household items. You could find a cobbler selling hand-stitched leather shoes beside a seamstress repurposing vintage silk scarves into elegant blouses. It was an integral part of the Florentine community to go and find truly vintage items.

Since the ’80s, the market has grown beyond its original Italian roots, reflecting a wave of globalization. As Florence became a prime tourist destination, its markets shifted to cater to new demands. In the past, every item was locally sourced—whether it was a handmade ceramic bowl or a handwoven scarf. Now, the merchandise tells a different story. There is a new wave of vendors who sell low-grade clothing products for 3-5 euros. These products have been unethically produced, which contradicts the original purpose of the market. A stall once known for vintage linen shirts now sells polyester blouses with “Made in China” labels. Where artisans once handcrafted belts from Tuscan leather, now imitation leather accessories line the tables. They are often indistinguishable from real craftsmanship until you touch the synthetic material.

The arrival of new vendors has shifted products from locally sourced Italian goods to imported fast fashion. These goods have been replacing Italian leather with synthetic fabrics, yet are sold at the same price. One of the many clothing stalls sells dupe designer shoe brands like Alexander McQueen for 10 euros. This “sale” can give the market a less authentic atmosphere and offer these already inexpensive products at a price that feels like a bargain. It’s clear that these items are not vintage, nor are they part of Florence’s rich fashion history. But for many shoppers, price wins over authenticity.

One local who has visited the Cascine market for decades expressed how the impact of new merchandise has changed the market’s motive from what it was supposed to be. It was originally meant to be a place where locals would come to find second-hand items and give them a new life. Under some vendors’ tents, that’s still the case. You can find well-known re-purposed brands like Levi’s and Diesel for an amazing low price. The market is still successful in its own way, but the new generation of vendors has taken advantage of the authenticity as a way to make a profit on mass-produced fashion.

Some may see this shift as an evolution that keeps the market relevant, while others feel it dilutes Florence’s fashion heritage. The market is held only on Tuesdays from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m. and still flourishes today. The food still smells delicious, and the prices are still low. But is a bargain worth the shift in focus?

The Monster of Florence

“He came up with a perfect plan.”

written by Charlotte Cicero & Guido Togliatti

Beneath the romantic cobblestones and rolling hills of Florence, Italy, lies one of the most disturbing true crime stories in European history. Between 1968 and 1985, a series of gruesome double homicides occurred in the Tuscan countryside. Il Mostro di Firenze—The Monster of Florence—created a legacy of terror, controversy, and conspiracy, and a decades-long series of unanswered questions.

A Pattern of Death

The first known crime occurred in 1968, though it wasn’t immediately linked to the rest. It wasn’t until a similar attack in 1974 that authorities began to suspect a serial killer might be at large. For 17 years, the murders continued. As media speculation and fear grew, so did the number of victims.

Il Mostro di Firenze sought out young couples seeking privacy in rural areas and often attacked while the couples were in their cars. Throughout the serial murders, the weapon used was consistently the same—a .22 caliber Beretta pistol. The ritualistic elements in these murders pointed toward a deranged but highly meticulous criminal at work.

Insights from Florence

To better understand the grip this case holds on Florence, we spoke with Fabio Binarelli, a native of Tuscany and professor at The American University of Florence, who offered personal insight into the murders and their legacy.

Binarelli noted that the killings followed a consistent pattern: the male victim was shot first, followed by the female, who was also often physically mutilated—most often targeting the breast or pelvic region. “That’s what made it feel truly serial,” Binarelli explained.

The investigation was very complicated. Binarelli explained, “Today everything is on your laptop—but back then, to connect several files of investigation, you had to have one clever investigator who connected places and years with the details.”

Eventually, suspicion fell on Pietro Pacciani, a violent Tuscan farmer with a disturbing history. “The investigation narrowed down to one person specifically and his close circle of friends,” Binarelli told us. Pacciani had once killed another man out of jealousy and had been known for abusing his wife and daughters. While Pacciani was convicted in 1994, his sentence was overturned in 1996 due to insufficient evidence.

Adding to the surreal nature of the case, Pacciani created works of art that disturbed the people around him. “Despite being almost illiterate, he had an interesting collection of drawings, and if you see them, they give you chills…” He also wrote poems and read one about brotherhood and love to the court during his trial. “Imagine that,” Binarelli said. “You’re in front of the Supreme Court, answering for eight double murders, and you’re reciting poetry. Something … it’s off.”

Fear, Conspiracy, and Cultural Reflection

The atmosphere in Florence during the years of the murders was palpable. Locals avoided the countryside, and couples were terrified to go out at night. Conspiracy theories flourished—some claiming that Pacciani was merely a pawn for a secret society involved in ritual killings.

Binarelli elaborated, “It was a great opportunity for fictional writers and journalists – they have many conspiracy theories now.”

American crime writer Douglas Preston famously got caught up in the case while researching in Florence. His book, The Monster of Florence, helped revive international interest, including a speculative link to the Zodiac Killer. Though no solid evidence ever backed this connection, the eerie similarities between the two killers only fueled the fire.

A Lasting Legacy

Beyond the crimes, the case peeled back layers of Tuscany’s cultural identity. “You have the judges: educated Florentines on one side, and on the other, Pietro and his friends, uneducated, rude, and when they were interrogated, they exposed the truths of their places.”

He continued, “Florence is sort of the light in the dark for human civilization. It’s interesting to see this inner struggle in the person of Piaccani, he was a brutal, violent person, a beast, but a beast with creative thoughts. That made him the perfect serial killer.”

Today, the Monster of Florence case remains officially unsolved. An upcoming Netflix docuseries has reignited interest and is set to be available this coming Fall. However, Binarelli says he’s weary about its historical accuracy: “If it’s only four episodes, that’s a lot to cram. I appreciate the artistic reenactment of things, but sometimes they are inaccurate or culturally distant.”

Most of the tourists who come to Florence for its beauty, art, and history will never know the story that took place in the rolling hills above town. The legacy of Il Mostro di Firenze is a chilling reminder that even the most beautiful places can be harbors of darkness.

Piazza D’Azeglio: The Heartbeat of Florence’s Underground Past

written by Emily Gibson

An Unexpected Encounter

How did I end up here, and what do I do now that I am? Surely, this is not that enchanted city where nearly 11 million visit annually, I reasoned. Where are the crowds or the music often needed to drown out the noise of the through traffic? “Michelangelo!” called a woman’s voice. I turned to see what art she could be referring to and was met by a young child with blonde hair and blue eyes running joyfully toward a playset. In a place where tourists spend an average of three billion dollars every year, an experience here, inconspicuous within the Florentine jungle, cost me only time.

“It’s hallowed ground,” said former Stanford professor and self-made historian Albert Gidari. “You may not know the history in detail or who died and what they did, but you just know, and that feeling conveys the place, so if you want someplace to just reflect for a few minutes on what life was like and why it was important, that’s what spirit is within that park.”

A Quiet Corner of Buried Defiance

Piazza Massimo D’Azeglio is a quaint 165-year-old square nestled in the corner of Florence’s city center between Campo Di Marte station and Sant’Ambrogio and, at first glance, a seemingly unusual site for a place where mass tourism has taken a toll. The neighborhood is still inhabited by residents where children play, dogs run, friends converse, and the elderly rest, but when I looked around at the beautiful, historical buildings, some embodying the prestigious liberty style, it was hard for me to imagine war was once present for which cause many lives ended there.

I shifted my gaze to the heart of the square where water spurted from the beak of a bronze crane — a symbol of good luck — and I wondered whether luck was enough for those brave men and women who once held anti-fascist meetings right here under the nose of the proponents themselves. I tried to imagine myself where I was, only at a time when deafening uncertainty filled the air.

“Anyone hiding material of any kind useful to the German Armed Forces or the German Nation is liable to be sentenced to death,” stated the Commander General (qtd. in Supporting Radio CORA: ‘resistant’ Arcetri in the memoirs of Michele Della Corte, 17).

Echoes of Joy Amid Whispers of Loss – WW2

Initially, I did not perceive the tangible references to a WW2 history still pulsing beneath the surface, but when I saw the children chasing one another up and down the paved piazza, I could not help but reflect on the childish games I once played, such as hide and seek, wherein I knew too well the feeling of rushed adrenaline coupled with fear when my hiding places were eventually found out. In the end, though, it was just a game, and my enemies were still my friends.

Hence, I struggled to picture the square before the 1940s, when there were large iron gates filling the space where the sidewalks now reside, making the park an impossible hideout for 80 years. When the square finally experienced newfound freedom, it came at the expense of Florence’s citizens. The gates were donated and melted to make the weapons forging the real gates around the freedoms of the people as uniformed soldiers of the Nazi Regime filled the city, stripping away what I have often taken for granted: safety, basic rights, and life itself. Many, I learned, would surrender to their cause, but others would stand in opposition, risking it all for hope.

A Final Transmission of Hope

A wise man once proved there is no greater love than for a man to lay down his life for a friend. Thus, what Resistance leaders Enrico Bocci, Italo Piccagli, and Luigi Morandi, among others, did on behalf of their friends and beloved city was nothing short of great love. On the fateful day of June 7, 1944, Nazi soldiers raided the top floor of Piazza D’Azeglio 12 — the final hiding place of Radio CORA. Therein, resistance men and women endangered their lives to transmit secret messages and hope to the Italian population. The three partisans were captured, tortured, and killed.

I walked to the northeastern side of Piazza D’Azeglio to see for myself what remained of those heroes, and I was met by their bronze memorial. I paused for a moment of silence and reflection.

An Invitation

My money is useless in D’Azeglio because the peace, joy, and freedom the square offers came at an invaluable investment I may never fully understand. Its rich history whispers through the grounds and nearby corners, where the Jewish synagogue still miraculously illuminates the skyline. Nonetheless, individuals visit D’Azeglio for various reasons, such as convenience and fond pastimes like Florentines Tobias Zerella, Anne Whittaker, and Tommaso Tempesti. Others like Gidari, who dedicated years to uncovering the stories of the resistance movement, visit because the historical site still speaks to them today. In any case, D’Azeglio serves as an invitation to enjoy the present and an opportunity to reflect on the past. Amid all Florence has to offer, I have discovered that if one has the time, Piazza D’Azeglio, the heartbeat of Florence’s underground past, offers an experience that mere money cannot afford.

“If you’re there for a week or more and want to breathe in Florence, it’s just such a pleasure to go and sit on a bench for an hour or two with a coffee… and watch the real people that live there enjoying their city, and just imagine what the city was like,” said Gidari.

The CPA’s Role in Florence Subculture

written by Katherine Seiler and Isabella McCarthy

This CPA deep dive is an exclusive bonus installment in our Spring issue of Blending Magazine. After you finish reading, be sure to explore the rest of the magazine online—just follow this link to download the full Spring 2025 edition:
https://jschoolfua.com/images/BM/BM_151.pdf

Origins

The Centro Popolare Autogestito (CPA) is a self-managed, community-driven space that offers a platform for political activism, art, and social movement, contrasting the city’s historical and tourist-centric culture. Founded in the 1980s, it began as an escape from heroin, social isolation, and marginalizations that were often present during these times. The group initially occupied a nursery school in early 1989 and transformed it into a community space where people could gather to address social and political issues. They had to move to a mechanical workshop later in the year, and finally moved into their current building in 2001 after the old school was closed down years prior. Nicolo, a member of the CPA, described the space as “squatters that take over abandoned places”, but this practice can be regarded as a way of the CPA reclaiming unused properties and transforming them into usable, community-driven spaces.

Hub of Creativity and Activity

Over the years, the CPA has evolved, but its core ideals in anti-fascism, community, and artistic expression remain intact and are present throughout its facility. Today, the CPA is a vibrant cultural hub hosting a variety of facilities, including a gym, library, art studio, cinema, and computer spaces. Classes in karate, ceramics, art, and more give people a chance to develop both personally and creatively. These spaces provide members the opportunity to connect, create, and grow.

Through a visit to the ceramics studio, managed by Roberto, we learned that the studio was established six years ago, and it has become a place of creativity and connection for many. The process is simple: pay a small fee, make two pieces to learn the basics, and then create whatever you want. There are no formal teachers; everyone helps one another, and the focus is on learning together. Through regulars like Ciara, Irene, and Vitoria, it became clear how much they valued the sense of community the studio provides. They worked together on each other’s pieces, sharing tips and experiences, fostering a sense of belonging.

Current Day

Visits to the CPA reveal the diversity of its community. Nicolo noted how younger generations would turn to the CPA to utilize study spaces and as an opportunity to socialize. It was mentioned that some children would skip school, hop the fence, and hang out at the CPA instead of being at school. This seems to be a tradition that has continued over time, as many members laughed and remarked, “just like we used to do!”. Though one member said, “The Italian population is not young, so there are a lot fewer young people here,” when talking about the age of people involved with the CPA.

The CPA’s finance model is that almost all activities are free of charge, except for concerts and the initial ceramics fee. The money needed to cover rent and utilities comes from the concert revenue. The CPA ensures that anyone, regardless of financial situation, can access the resources available.

The CPA is also focused on helping the community, as they were instrumental in organizing large-scale food and resource drives during the pandemic. Despite their history of tensions with law enforcement, members of the CPA shared that during the pandemic, the police would give out the CPA’s number to individuals who needed food but could not afford it. At this time, law enforcement recognized the value and importance of some of the work that the CPA does.

Expanding on the relationship with law enforcement, the center has a longstanding reputation for being anti-authoritarian and believing that the police represent an oppressive force. The CPA does not tolerate drugs and believes in alcohol moderation. People do smoke weed within the CPA, and though it is not legal, the cops do not bother people who smoke it on the CPA property.

For many, the CPA provides a space where people can escape, create, and express themselves freely. Despite facing numerous challenges, the CPA continues to thrive, staying true to its core values. It’s a place for the marginalized, the artists, and the activists and a space that has evolved but remains firmly rooted in its commitment to community.

The “Made in Italy” Tag: A Legacy of Quality and The Loss of its Reputation

written by Alison Abbruzzese, Tyler Kirwan, Carla Lewinsky, Kendall Kreidel, Madeline Jacaruso, Justin Turner & Sophia Fitzpatrick

This “Made in Italy” deep dive is an exclusive bonus installment in our Spring issue of Blending Magazine. After you finish reading, be sure to explore the rest of the magazine online—just follow this link to download the full Spring 2025 edition:
https://jschoolfua.com/images/BM/BM_151.pdf

The ‘Made in Italy’ label has long been synonymous with elegance, craftsmanship, and luxury. Originating in the mid-20th century, this designation became a hallmark of superior quality and refined style, positioning Italy as a global leader in fashion. However, while the label continues to hold significant prestige, it faces new challenges in an era dominated by globalization and fast fashion. Today, this well-known label can often be misleading and not representative of authentic Italian products. Misleadingly claiming ‘Made in Italy’ does not just deceive consumers but creates a false narrative of Italian culture, heritage, and values. As a country known for being a leader in fashion and skilled craftsmanship, this deceptive tactic utilized by global mass producers can be incredibly harmful to local artisans and Italian small businesses.

The Birth of ‘Made in Italy’

The ‘Made in Italy’ tag emerged in the 1950s, coinciding with several important reforms in Italian history. In the aftermath of World War II, Italy sought to reform its economy and national identity. Fashion played a crucial role in this transformation as Italian designers began showcasing their collections on international runways. These fashion shows, which gained traction in cities like Florence and Milan, introduced the world to Italian tailoring, detailed fabrics, and exceptional craftsmanship.

During this period, designers such as Emilio Pucci, Salvatore Feragamo, and Giorgio Armani began to shape Italy’s reputation as a hub for high fashion, with its strong attention to detail and innovative designs. By the late 1950s and early 1960s, ‘Made in Italy’ had become a mark of prominence, attracting consumers who sought a premium quality and exclusivity in their clothing.

The ‘Made in Italy’ Campaign of the 1980s

Building on its growing fashion reputation, Italy launched the ‘Made in Italy’ campaign in the 1980s. This initiative was designed to capitalize on the country’s flourishing luxury industry and further establish Italian products as the pinnacle of style and refinement. The campaign was highly successful, positioning Italian brands like Gucci, Prada, Versace, and Dolce & Gabbana as leaders in the global fashion scene. At the heart of the campaign was the idea of selling not just clothing but a sophisticated and exclusive lifestyle. Consumers embraced this concept, driving an increased demand for Italian-made goods and reinforcing the country’s dominance in high fashion. The ‘Made in Italy’ label became a coveted symbol.

The Modern Perception of ‘Made in Italy’

The perception of ‘Made in Italy’ remains highly esteemed, with many consumers willing to pay a premium for products bearing the label. This reputation is built on a legacy of high-quality craftsmanship, exceptional tailoring, and timeless style—qualities that continue to be powerful selling points for Italian brands. Beyond its cultural significance, the label also plays a vital role in Italy’s economy. According to the Clean Clothes Campaign, “In 2021, the textile-clothing-footwear sector contributed approximately €24 billion to Italy’s trade balance, accounting for around 11% of the country’s total export earnings.”

However, the integrity of the ‘Made in Italy’ label has come under increasing scrutiny due to shifts in the global fashion industry. One of the most pressing concerns is the rise of fast fashion, which has fundamentally altered both consumer behavior and industry dynamics. As demand for affordable, trend-driven clothing reaches new heights, many brands have been forced to adapt—sometimes at the expense of quality. In an effort to remain competitive, some companies have begun mass-producing garments with lower-quality materials while still capitalizing on the status associated with the ‘Made in Italy’ name. This growing tension raises important questions about authenticity, sustainability, and the future of Italy’s fashion identity.

Challenges Facing ‘Made in Italy’ Today

While the ‘Made in Italy’ label continues to carry weight, several factors have led to its dilution. Some brands exploit legal loopholes to use the ‘Made in Italy’ tag without following traditional standards. In some cases, only the final touches of a product are completed in Italy, allowing companies to label them as Italian-made despite most of the production occurring elsewhere. With these issues occurring, the fashion industry began a significant shift from custom tailoring to ready-to-wear clothing. While Italy once dominated the luxury tailoring market, the increasing preference for off-the-rack fashion has reduced the exclusivity of Italian craftsmanship.

Preserving the Prestige of ‘Made in Italy’

To maintain the integrity of the ‘Made in Italy’ label, industry leaders and policymakers must take steps to protect its authenticity. Stricter regulations on the use of the label could help prevent its exploitation and ensure that only genuinely Italian-made products have the mark.

Additionally, supporting traditional craftsmanship through government incentives and industry collaboration can help keep Italy’s reputation for excellence in fashion. Moreover, embracing sustainable and ethical production practices could bring back the appeal of ‘Made in Italy’ in today’s fashion landscape. As consumers become more conscious of quality and sustainability, Italian brands that emphasize authentic craftsmanship and responsible sourcing may regain their competitive edge.

The ‘Made in Italy’ tag represents a legacy of fashion excellence. While it continues to carry prominence, it faces significant challenges in a rapidly evolving fashion industry. Mass production and fast fashion may dilute its authenticity and undermine its value; however, with the right measures, Italy can safeguard and even bolster the prestige of its most celebrated label.