Alessandra Monaco
What if beauty is a form of art and fashion a tool to cultivate creativity and self-expression? In this new article, Alessandra Monaco explores alternatives to commodified notions of beauty. She interviews Giulia Paganelli, anthropologist and writer, and Dario Casalini, textile entrepreneur and founder of the Slow Fiber movement, to question what constitutes ‘beauty’ and imagine how fashion can be a space for liberation, granting people the freedom to experiment and express themselves in ways that resist dominant cultural ideas of beauty.
This is the third and final article in a three-part mini series exploring the intersection of beauty and fashion. The first article, which has also been adapted into a comic by Shaunauk Sokey, investigated the meaning and role of ‘beauty’ through history while the second piece examined how globalisation, neoliberalism, and profit-driven industries commodified health and beauty into marketable goods.
God is dead. What’s next?
“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?[1] “
Nietzsche’s words heralded the death of God in an era where science and technology had taken precedence, shattering all absolute certainties and leaving humanity without a secure source of meaning and truth. The death of God signified the demise of immutable truths, the vanishing of widespread belief in the validity and authority of absolute, ethical, and religious values, compelling humanity to accept an earthly existence devoid of metaphysical consolations and to shoulder the responsibility of creating meaning and value in a seemingly disoriented world. With the death of God, Nietzsche prophesied the advent of the Übermensch (“Overman” / ”Superman”).
Beyond political and literary interpretive drifts, Nietzsche thought about the Übermensch as an individual who has the courage to transcend the myth of God, taking direct responsibility to embrace their uniqueness and creative potential and live an authentic and passionate existence reflective of the primordial energy of the Dionysian spirit.
God is dead. But it seems we failed to fulfil Nietzsche’s prophecy about the Übermensch. Rather, we find ourselves submerged and lost with our fragilities in Baumann’s liquid society, where space and time are fluid, and where any borders or identity landmarks are lost, fading away and melting in an unstable, unrecognizable magma. In this landscape of uncertainty, where traditional certainties are in crisis, we identify our biological body as the (only) cornerstone of our identity to respond to alienation and precarity, and attempt to establish a sense of security and control in a constantly changing world. Concern for health, physical well-being, and preservation reflects our basic desire for security in a context where many other certainties have disappeared. At times, this concern can lead to a genuine cult of the body, where there is a tendency to reject the concepts of ageing, illness, and death. We feel the urgency of appearance as the only way to affirm and give sense to our existence.
What if this liquid scenario is an ideal breeding ground where any cultural model, physical feature, personal behaviour and choice can flourish and redefine the rules of the game because it represents a neutral territory? While questioning any value and abandoning any mandatory reference or traditional framework can make one feel lost, it could also represent an opportunity to break through the walls of prejudice and bigotry: this is where alternative, diverse sensibilities can possibly find space, and dignity and inclusion for everybody can be promoted. It’s here that the physical body, that last tangible presence in a liquid world, can find the courage to become a sign of identity for many different forms of beauty, which have been put aside or marginalized for a long time. And so, bodies, dresses and cosmetics foster self-love and confidence and become the incarnation of unheard voices and their right to feel beautiful.
(Pic by Alessandra Monaco)
Inclusion
Lately, the fashion industry has been promoting an adaptive notion of beauty through the creation of inclusive products that allow people with disabilities or chronic diseases to autonomously access the world of make-up. There are, for example, jars that can be opened only with one hand or brushes with special grips. Also, some brands have introduced specific collections with closures, buttons and zips that can be easily managed by disabled persons. Labels are also available now in Braille for the convenience of the visually impaired. Taking care of disability should not just be about involving some members of this community in advertising campaigns, it has to include practical actions able to break down some barriers limiting these people in their everyday life.
The fashion industry has also become sensitive to the needs and feelings of the new generation, which has increasingly challenged the binary division of gender, rejecting existing labels and identities. This recognises and supports the needs of the LGBTQIA+ community and others to be able to experiment with their identity, express and assert themselves freely, and claim their right to be appropriately represented. Indeed, gender-neutral clothing is not a novelty, but today gender-fluid fashion is more disruptive as it stands for trans and non-binary representation going mainstream instead of being kept private or secret, moving beyond prejudice and promoting a message of inclusion and authenticity. Fashion can be a megaphone to loudly claim one’s own place in the world.
Cultural reclamation and reappropriation are challenging harmful stereotypes that have taken root since the colonial era as they soundly reaffirm alternatives to the Western notions of beauty, and also promote polycentrism.
A couple of years ago, I had the opportunity to attend an exhibition in Stockholm’s Fotografiska Museum, “The New Black Vanguard: Photography between Art and Fashion”: I was surrounded by vibrant, powerful colour-blocks photographs representing bodies, gazes and garments so distant and yet so close to me that I couldn’t help but immerse myself in their unquestionable beauty. The African artists (or of African origins) used fashion photography to subvert the aesthetic of African people, rejecting colonialist models and stereotypes, and offering a new artistic representation of African beauty, culture, creativity, and diversity. As Tyler Mitchell, one of the photographers featured at the exhibition said, “to convey black beauty is an act of justice”.
Fashion and beauty together can go beyond mere corporality and represent a search for identity, an attempt of (re)affirmation. Beauty becomes more powerful whenever we dig deeper for its essence.
Or Marketing?
Great progress has been made so far in the field of marketing, but is that enough? Moreover, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Does inclusion really stand for respect and accessibility? Or, as according to the Cambridge dictionary, is it “the act of including someone or something as part of a group” and therefore favor accomodation towards models recommended by the dominant culture? Are we really improving as society and as human beings, or are we just fueling the dynamics of market capitalism? If I look around, I can see that disabled bodies are more easily included in the narrative so far as they represent various forms of success. They are worthy of respect as they reach a peak in spite of their handicap – because it’s always needed to specify “in spite of”, to underline and frame the exceptionality of the situation. They are expected to be well made up and wear expensive clothing, and to properly display the traditional symbols of success and wealth, reinforcing a certain view that implicitly blames the ones who didn’t make it. But, what about ordinary disabled people forced by circumstances to live a less than ordinary life, not able to be fashion consumers? Do we take into consideration the opportunity to spot beauty in their diverse bodies or we’d rather simply consider them “other than us”? Aren’t we creating a sort of a special beauty category with a different degree of acceptance and tolerance (the right term is probably oscillating between compassion and commiseration) that we quite benevolently accept to feel like the good guys of the story? Don’t we, perhaps, use their bodies to reinforce the fences of our beauty standards?
Let us take another example. As the LGBTQIA+ community gained prominence and acceptance within society, fashion industry spotted new market opportunities in gender-neutral clothing. Loads of fashion collections were created ignoring borders that in the past clearly defined distinct fashion shows for men and women. It seems “gender-neutral” has become a marketing tool to build loyalty to a new category of customers and expand the market share of the various brands. We could probably state that it’s a matter of supply and demand, where producers and consumers interact and influence a commodification cycle.
So, we see tons of items decorated with rainbows and unicorns put on the market to celebrate Pride. I wonder, to what extent these fashion brands are embracing and supporting this cause. You could reply that it’s important to talk about and thrust these issues into the public sphere, but it’s also easy to cross the line and find that a vulnerable group is being exploited yet again for profit.
And, what about cultural reappropriation? Recently, I read the UNESCO report, “The Fashion Sector in Africa: Trends, Challenges and Opportunities for Growth”, and I immediately understood that African creativity, talent, diversity, heritage, craftsmanship, pride and identity are essentially played up in the context of the high potential for economic growth in that huge continent. There is a whole chapter dedicated to strategic opportunities for growth that, in my opinion, are borrowed from the Western fashion industry without being recontextualized. It seems the goal is to standardize the “made in Africa” fashion according to Western models and rules (and maybe needs). Let’s be clear: I’m happy to see the African continent grow and strengthen, improve its quality of life, health and instruction, and share its varied ideas of beauty with a wider audience. But I’d rather they do it their own way. The current approach of the fashion industry sounds to me like the old trope of the Christian missionaries building schools and hospitals in a colonized country… but never aligning with its struggle for independence.
I’m afraid, “inclusion” has become another form of marketing and commodification, and it is evident that some “categories” are designed only to enlarge the number of consumers. Only when people within these “categories” willingly conform to the mainstream consumeristic culture, they could be invited to the party. They are the Cinderellas who wore the right dressing gown and crystal shoes to go to the ball and meet their Prince. It doesn’t matter if their dresses are fake and become rags a minute after midnight: they are aligned with expectations and trends. If you are not interested in, and are not interesting, for the consumerist party, you are simply excluded. You deserve inclusion only if you are a cash cow with a submissive disposition. Selling products is the bottom line.
The more I scratch the surface, the more discover that the very tools and mechanisms designed to enhance our lives, mostly end up entrapping us in a cycle of dependency and servitude. The pursuit of convenience and progress, while offering the illusion of freedom, in reality, binds us more tightly to systems and structures that perpetuate our alienation. Consumer culture encourages the acquisition of goods but may deepen dissatisfaction, and the quest for freedom becomes entangled in systems that perpetuate dependence.
God is dead. And probably we are nothing more than Nietzsche’s Last Man, blindly adhering to a hetero-directed system that forces us to conform to a certain ideal to be considered beautiful. “No shepherd and one herd! Everybody wants the same, everybody is the same: whoever feels different goes voluntarily into a madhouse ”[2].
Should I simply attribute all this to overthinking? Should I simply terminate that thought process?
Are you afraid?
Among my various mental ruminations, I have identified an atavistic reason that conditions our behaviour.
In recent times, we have been witnessing the Western world expressing indignation towards the physical, emotional, cultural and socio-economic subjugation of women in Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan… There are more than justified reasons that drive the Western world to be critical of certain models and to oppose them, especially regarding the violation of human rights. The underlying problem, however, is that there is a tendency to judge a complex cultural issue, rich in nuances and sometimes contradictory, without a systemic approach and solid foundations. There is a tendency to dismiss and condemn events and institutions because they appear unfamiliar, odd and perplexing through Western-colored lenses. It’s rare to find balanced and well-argued positions; instead, it is more common to encounter what we could define as a mix of “westsplaining[3]” and “whitesplaining”.
However, the migrations of recent decades and the increased presence of Islamic communities in the West show us, for example, how the display of the body is not a natural element but a cultural construct, and how a woman’s beauty (and freedom) is not necessarily measured in centimetres of exposed skin. Firmly opposed to dividing into football-like teams on such delicate issues, I believe that a deeper reflection, a genuine desire to listen, and going through a cultural decolonization process is necessary to enable discussion (even healthy confrontation), recognizing one’s own identity through the eyes of others, making an effort to understand, and respecting others, which does not necessarily mean agreement or assimilation. Decolonizing does not mean rejecting or betraying one’s identity or belonging, but simply recognizing that we do not hold absolute truth.
Decolonizing means abandoning fear. Fear of what we do not know. Fear of no longer being the majority. Fear of losing privilege. Fear of no longer representing a dominant position. Decolonizing means embracing. And, acceptance should be a theme and a cherished value of the Western Christian tradition. Thus Saint Paul reminds us in his Letter to the Romans “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God”[4]
We can also notice that the widespread acceptance and valorization of gender, social, and ethnic differences are true only to the extent that they conform to predetermined standards: diversity is accepted only within the aesthetics of beautiful bodies – toned, healthy, with smooth skin, styled hair, fashionable clothes, and victorious. Despite the proliferation of curvy models, for example, fatphobia is persistent and pervasive not only in the models presented to us, but also in our deepest cognitive biases, to the point that today we witness the reckless intake of medications against type II diabetes and obesity by models, influencers, singers, as well as ordinary people, essentially of normal weight, just to suppress hunger and induce rapid weight loss. Thinness remains the dominant model and continues to be promoted through the thinness-health equation, without considering the myriad of facets and issues that this statement flattens and trivializes. Despite the general condemnation of pharmaceutical abuse, in fact, there is also a staunch demonization of those who do not lose weight and are labelled as lazy, gluttonous, indolent, or neglectful of their health.
Once again, the theme of fear recurs. Fear of being excluded, of being different, of not measuring up, of being criticized and judged, of not being loved. Once again, here are the monsters that our fragility struggles to combat. And for those who do not have the courage to face fear, only conformity remains. The theme of fatphobia gives me the chance to tell you the story of an engaging encounter.
A serendipitous encounter
Last September, I was driving back home from a textile event in Biella, Italy and my radio was on. The frequency was slightly disturbed and every now and then a buzz interrupted the voices on the radio, but the topic under discussion was immensely interesting. I raised the volume and found a place to stop my car. The sound cleared up. A young female voice was speaking. Her vocabulary was sophisticated, and her speech flew fluently, with neither interruptions nor uncertainties. The velvet voice was somehow contrasting the depth of the content. I couldn’t help but listen intently as if enchanted by the song of the sirens.
The broadcast on air[5] was dedicated to cultural models and femicides and the interviewee was Giulia Paganelli. She was talking about fat shaming and rebel bodies. The same day I did a bit of research and discovered Giulia is a philosopher, an anthropologist, and a writer. I really wanted to talk with her. And I was lucky enough to get a positive feedback to my message.
I asked her for an interview. She agreed quite readily. I was so embarrassed and awkward when I reached her on the phone. How could I engage with her? How could my words not sound stupid? Well, I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, as she started talking in a very spontaneous and friendly way, making me feel really at ease. That was my very first, unforgettable interview.
“If you ask me what beauty is, I immediately think about the forest, the sea, an old book I read more than 20 years ago”. Then she starts explaining to me that perfection as a canon of beauty is a Platonic idea and we remain anchored to it because of our upbringing, where we are taught that there are safe roads and unsafe roads: if you stay on the safe one, you are part of the good guys; otherwise not. Beauty in this sense proposes once again the moral value of a person, where a “beautiful” body corresponds to a good person and an “ugly” one represents a bad one. But we are still chained in Plato’s cave observing shadows that keep us occupied, while life unfolds behind us.
When it comes to talking about fashion, she begins by saying that perhaps more than beauty, we should talk about art, and we should ask ourselves if we truly want beauty to be a category of art. She tells me she likes the grotesque, she likes experimentation, she likes to question and subvert the order. Then she starts sharing some personal experiences related to her non-conventional body. It’s touching and I feel any word of mine would be inappropriate.
“So, you wanna know what beauty is…well, beauty is a cage, is a lie, is an impediment to well-being. Not only for non-conforming bodies that are excluded and marginalized, but also for those conforming ones that are trapped in a mental cage forcing them to adhere to a stereotype.”
Coming to the end to our conversation, I ask her what kind of alternatives she can imagine for the future to escape from that cage. She says it’s fundamental to change the representation model, not as an artifice, and allowing all bodies to always be included, stating that a more diversified representation will also benefit our mental health by offering models where we can recognize ourselves and feel welcomed. She tells about the need for models that reevaluates imperfection and deprives it of that heavy and judgmental sense and concludes by saying “We have the power – and I would add, the duty – to demand what’s right for us. If we can’t do it, events will force us because the economic and socio-political situation we are experiencing can no longer work, it is failing and catastrophic. Everything needs to be rethought, starting with the redistribution of resources. In this context, we either find the courage to look inside ourselves and find new ways of being, accepting, understanding, and adapting to change, or change will descend upon us violently”.
As the call ended, I took a deep breath. Giulia had left me with so many thoughts and emotions to put in order, and a huge intellectual, and more importantly, an emotional takeaway: “our bodies will always be homes, but they will never be temples”[6].
Slow
That day in Biella was a very special one. Only a few hours back, I was attending an event around the use of natural fibre in fashion, a two-day event where I had the chance to listen to some influential researchers I particularly admire, brilliant entrepreneurs, and shepherds and breeders from all over the world. Everybody truly committed to a just transition. It was on that stage that I saw Dario Casalini for the first time.
Dario is a former academic, textile entrepreneur and founder of the Slow Fiber movement. During his speech, when illustrating a Slow Fiber ethics approach to fashion, he projected a slide stating “BEAUTIFUL: a product can have high aesthetic quality without compromising on respect for the environment and humanity. Beauty is also about being healthy for those who wear it, fair for those who work in the supply chain, clean for the environment, and long-lasting”. I approached him afterwards, asking for the chance to continue that interesting discussion. A couple of months later we were on a video call.
With a kind demeanor and a genuine smile, Dario greets me and picks up the conversation where we left off in Biella. Dario gets immediately to the heart of the topic and affirms that since the post-war period we have witnessed a voracious and rapid cannibalization that has promoted a certain type of beauty – fashion – to the detriment of another – that of respect and balance between nature and man. As he carefully explains in his book[3], “Beauty can’t be at the expense of anyone or anything” he states and affirms that beauty is the pursuit of happiness and it’s everyone’s right to feel beautiful, taking for granted that beauty is in any case a subjective value.
Dario is a Piedmontese entrepreneur who now manages his family company that has been producing natural fibres underwear since 1936. I guess the specific kind of garments he produces makes him particularly sensitive to bodies; indeed, he tells me right in the beginning that we need both the acceptance of one’s own body and the sound inclusion of all the bodies. And one possible way to reach this goal is to grant accessibility of products for all bodies, possibly investing, for instance, in machines able to produce garments three sizes larger than the standard large one, as he is doing in his company.
Dario firmly believes that fashion, if guided by a true, sincere value system, can actively and effectively promote this kind of acceptance and inclusion. But if you simply follow a trend or a marketing opportunity, you are just whitewashing. “You can’t promote and support ethnic or body differences through coloured or oversized models, if you don’t first of all respect all the bodies working to create your products”.
I ask Dario to conclude sharing his thought about a positive operable alternative to the actual scenario and he suggests that it’s high time to resize, act with measure, so that nothing can hurt. And this is the commitment of all the companies adhering to Slow Fiber movements: provide people with beautiful, healthy, clean, fair, and durable products.
His words and his attitude reminded me a lot of Mahatma Gandhi’s non-violent revolution. “There is no beauty in the finest cloth if it makes hunger and unhappiness”. But also of the motto of the revolutionary designer Vivienne Westwood “buy less, choose well, make it last”. Dario’s calm determination lets me hope that we – both as consumers and producers – really have the power to change the actual scenario with our choices and decisions.
Fashion
In late January, during the Spring/Summer 2024 Paris Fashion Week Haute Couture, it so happened that I watched online John Galliano’s fashion show for Maison Margiela. I was spellbound by the poetics of his narrative. My memories go back to Alessandro Michele’s performances as Gucci’s creative director, who exploited his creativity to tell us stories about his knowledge on human nature and art. And I can’t help but thinking about his unusual collaboration with the contemporary philosopher Emanuele Coccia, exploring the impact of his intellectual and innovative approach to fashion on cultural norms and demonstrating a strong intertwining between fashion and philosophy.
The exclusivity of high fashion is a dream, it’s a charming or frightening story a designer is telling us, sharing his/her interpretation of our times, and sharing his/her world thanks to the wise minds and hands working with threads, and fabrics, and feathers, and pearls, and embroideries. Their collections don’t need to be beautiful, rather amazing, extraordinary, disruptive, revolutionary. Most of us know we will never wear those garments, for many different reasons, but we all have the right to dream, to escape, to feel, to nurture our imagination.
I recalled Giulia’s words and I guess she was right when suggesting we should consider fashion as a form of art. And in this sense, fashion can be a great inspiration and liberation that allows us to release our creativity, imagination, self-expression, identity. But, then, we have a role to play when it comes to choose what to wear in our daily lives: here we can decide if we want to be masters of our lives, refuse to be exploited and exploit others, and express our beauty through conscious choices, as Dario warmly suggested; or we can abdicate and delegate our choices to someone else, join a group of toy-soldiers all exactly alike and keep feeding the capitalistic system of overconsumption and overproduction, where no authentic beauty can be found. We should indeed keep in mind that we are citizens, before being consumers. And at this point I think it’s clear it’s not fashion to be blamed for the commodification of beauty, rather the economic system of our society that swallows up anything to generate profit. I dare say fashion is one of the many easy victims of the money god.
So, what can fashion do to change the system and propose a sound, healthy notion of beauty? Well, I have no magic stick nor Aladdin’s lamp, but I wish fashion can leverage on its heritage to move away from the obsolete, vulgar concept of luxury – whose etymology is from the Latin luxus, that means dislocated, placed sideways – and go back to excellence. The search of excellence would probably imply to abandon the promotion of transitory, impermanent status symbols, and instead create culture. Fashion can indeed promote a positive environment, made of love, respect and consciousness, as a safe place where everybody can feel at ease and appreciated.
Beauty
A madhouse certainly is not a positive environment. At least, it wasn’t in Italy till the end of the 1970s. And it was there that the Milanese poetess Alda Merini, born the first day of Spring of 1931,
known for her pearl necklaces and the ever-present cigarette, spent a significant part of her life.
She was old, wrinkled and with a fat, flabby body when she decided to be photographed topless by her friend and photographer Giuliano Grittini. Those photographs were considered a scandal.
She then declared: “The imperfection of the body scandalizes more than that of the soul. Everyone is quick to point fingers at those who are not “perfect” according to these stupid societal standards followed by so many sheep, with all due respect to the sheep, who gaze and reflect from morning till night in front of a mirror, letting their souls rot. It was my choice to be photographed naked.
I find people’s moralism amusing; they don’t object to nudity itself, which is now everywhere, but to imperfection. It’s imperfection, and the scandal it causes, as if it were a fault. Mine was an act of provocation, and also of deep pain: in the asylum, they stripped us as if we were objects. I still feel naked now”.
What’s the point of having a perfect body if your soul is rotting?
To me, beauty is like a garden, rich in colourful, fragrant flowers and fruits, and lush vegetation. You can’t expect to see it growing if you don’t take care of it and don’t listen to the genius loci, if you forget to water it, nurture the soil, welcome insects and animals. You won’t be able to see it flourish if you don’t have the patience to wait and appreciate the succession of the seasons, if you can’t find a proper balance between sun and shade, if you don’t accept that dead fruits can fall to the ground and return their nutrients to their trees, making them stronger and more luxuriant. You won’t find a purpose in your garden, unless you feel a deep connection with it, and you understand it is part of a bigger universe. You can probably lay a layer of artificial grass and put some plastic plants for decoration, but could it still be called a garden? Some gardens will be full of rocks and cacti, some others full of tropical fruits. Some will be very zen, with water and ever-changing drawings in the sand. Others will keep a special rose to which the Little Prince dedicated all his care. In some you will chill in the silent shade of pines, while in others you will enjoy the company of playful butterflies. Some will be secret gardens to discover discreetly, and others will be well-kept public gardens or majestic botanical gardens. All of them will be beautiful in their own way.
You should be aware that weeds too grow in gardens: sometimes they take over, but often the brambles, full of treacherous thorns, are filled with blackberries and raspberries. A hailstorm can damage the delicate petals of flowers. Bees, wasps, and bumblebees will make holes in mature fruits hanging from the branches to suck their nectar. Ivy, periwinkles, and other climbing plants will take possession of trunks and fences. Then, unexpectedly, unknown plants sprout from mysterious seeds carried by the wind. The garden is surprisingly imperfect. One day, in my messy garden, I suddenly felt God was not dead. Beauty is probably the long journey you need to take to be in peace with yourself. It’s a matter of knowing and cultivating yourself, listening and learning, and making attempts and mistakes too. It’s acceptance as opposed to running after the alteration of your body to conform to others’ standards. And, when you stop to be your worst judge, and you finally become your closest friend, everyone will see you as beautiful as you are. At the end of the day, you are truly beautiful as soon as you escape the cage of beauty.
Alessandra Monaco works as an independent sustainability consultant and advisor in Lugano, Switzerland, drawing upon over 16 years of experience within the fashion industry. In 2023,, Alessandra transitioned to a solopreneurial role, and now works with organizations seeking to pave a path toward a fairer and more sustainable future.
References
[1] Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra. A Book for All and None, 1883-1885
[2] Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, 1882, book III,12
[3] This term is usually referred to the Western interpretation of Central and Eastern Eurpoe socio-political world linked to Soviet Union. In this paragraph I took freedom to give it a wider interpretation, referring to this attitude towards everything that is not white West.
[4] Romans, 15:7, Sacred Bible (New International Version)”
[5] You can listen to the episode (in Italian) at the following link: https://www.raiplaysound.it/audio/2023/09/Fahrenheit-del-29092023-44771066-2631-45f2-ac51-38148d218383.html
[6] Giulia Paganelli, Corpi Ribelli. Storie umane di rivoluzione, Sperling & Kupfer Editore, 2023
[7] Dario Casalini, Vestire buono, pulito e giusto. Per tornare a una moda sostenibile, Slow Food Editore, 2021