Goodbye to Italia

One day, with butterflies in her stomach, Iucci knocks on Eugenio’s office door. He immediately bids her to enter and sit down. He looks at her face and notes her hesitation. ‘You haven’t crashed the Vespa again have you?’

‘No … no! Why would you think that?’

‘Well, you have that same expression on your face.’

‘Oh. No. The Vespa’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve been chatting with Esther and I showed her these, and she said I should show them to you too.’ She pushes across a few large sheets of paper on which she has sketched designs of a few dresses, skirts, and tops. Pointing to the top one, she explains that she would fancy wearing them and knows that their customers would too.

‘Ma questi sono incredibile! But these are great! Why didn’t you tell me before that you fancied designing?’

Iucci breathes a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure if they were any good. Eugenio has very definite opinions of what he does and doesn’t like.

‘I’ve got quite a few ideas for the pret a porter range, as well.’

Eugenio smiles and nods. ‘Well then, bring them in and we can discuss it further. I suggest that you go and have some more chats with Esther and decide what materials you are going to use to create these garments.’ And just like that, Iucci’s designs start to populate the dress ranges and, as her salary packet also increases, she feels like she has the best job in the world.