According to realtor.com I've been living in a sensory deprivation tank.
I laughed when I got an email the other day that said, "I'm ready to sell our house and live in a 'tiny house'. Do you know what tiny houses are?" Maybe I'd never told her my house was 350 square feet. I not only know what tiny houses are, I'd say I'm a pro. I really thought she was just trying to make a point that she wanted a small house. What I didn't know is that "tiny houses are the big rage now," as the email said. And getting back to realtor.com, "Unless you've been living in a sensory deprivation tank, you're probably familiar with the tiny-house movement invading all corners of the U.S." That's when I realized that living in a small town (in a tiny house) in northern Italy is like living in a sensory deprivation tank. For me a tiny house was nothing more than the one I live in. I wasn't trying to make a statement. I was just living.
Sensible things are often overlooked until a movement shows up. Did we need the smart-car movement to see that a smart car is one that doesn't use a lot of gas and is easy to park? And when did moms realize that SUV stands for Sport Utility Vehicle not School Utility Vehicle? I suppose it probably dawned on them when the anti-SUV movement came along.
It seems someone else has to tell us something is cool before we are willing to accept it. Take women's hats. Years ago hats were hip (like in "big hat films" where they wear noisy dresses and ride around in carriages). They weren't really very sensible, but they sure looked good. Then came the hatless years. Nobody wanted hat head. Years later we took a big turn and went for sensible hats that gave you hat head, but it was acceptable because everyone was donning them. I call it the "it's-okay-to-stay-warm-in-the-winter-and-wear-a-hat movement."
Next come tennis shoes. Or gym shoes or sneakers or whatever they're called now. I'm not sure what's happening with them in America, but as I mentioned in Stick People Families on the Move, Italians have finally decided that comfortable shoes aren't a bad idea. As I waited to get off the vaporetto in Venice the other day, I counted. Of the 23 pairs of feet I could see, only one pair was wearing pink suede shoes with blue dots. For the time being, my fortune in Ferragamos is out of fashion, but still in use. Unless of course I want to buy the Ferragamo Donna Sneakers for 560 euros. That's all it would cost to join the tennis shoe movement. A cheaper alternative would be my old running shoes that were maxed with miles, but look like new. But for me, as for Italians in the past, running shoes are for running.
I've been told by friends that most Italians don't sit on steps or on the ground. The few that I've convinced don't join me until they've pulled a newspaper out of their bag, opened a magazine or unfolded a kleenex from the little kleenex travel packs that Italians are never without. A couple of years ago I went to a concert in the auditorium of an old orphanage. By the time I arrived there were no seats, so I stood in the lobby and leaned on the wall. Once the music started and my friends could only reprimand me with a look, I slid down and sat on the floor. They weren't thrilled, but they'd started getting used to me. What they weren't expecting came ten minutes later when the rest of the people (Italians) that came too late for a velvet seat sank down on the cold marble floor in the lobby just like I did. My friends looked so silly standing, they sank, too, and then spent the whole concert worrying about the old man in the corner that they were certain would never be able to stand up again.
Sitting on the Spanish Steps in Rome has been happening for decades. I think they're always packed because it's the only place Italians feel comfortable doing what's comfortable for the rest of us all the time. (On the other hand, it's so touristy, maybe there are no Italians there at all.) Maybe they're called the Spanish Steps because people in Spain actually sit on steps. Instead of going to bars, Spaniards show up in the
plaza (piazza, square) with a brown bag full of beer and sit down for the night with no protective magazine or kleenex.
Other than the Spanish Steps, Italians didn't use to sit anywhere except at a cafe table or on a bench. But I'm happy to say that the "it's-cool-to-sit-on-the-steps movement" has arrived. In Bassano del Grappa, you can now sit on the steps outside one of the oldest bars in the piazza (on a cushion, of course). You can't bring your own beer and you certainly can't just sit down in the middle of the piazza, but it's a STEP in the right direction.
As for tiny houses in Italy, I think they just might work. Even people that I know with big houses do everything in one room. It's called the kitchen. The before dinner drink is at the table. Dinner is at the table. And coffee is at the table. Sometimes kitchens come with a sofa, a TV and a fireplace, kind of like a great room (if you can call a 150-square foot room with everything you own all that great). But you still spend five hours at the table.
Don't be afraid to make a move without a movement. And if you start something new and no one follows, bravo! You might just realize it's nice to be the only one on the vaporetto with pink suede shoes.
