I am really struggling here to put words to describe the project that we’ve just launched.  Note that I’ve settled on that word, project, rather than “capsule collection.”  Somehow, a well-trodden fashion term like “capsule” not only fails to capture the specialness of what we have created, but also ends up diminishing its meaning.  If we were to serve a standard description of these pieces a caption that reads “an assortment of pieces inspired by the dramatic setting of a countryside home in Italy” would be expected.  But the reality of what we have done and with whom requires so much more context, and I need to explain it here.  It is a story worth telling, and if I’ve done a decent job at it, it will warm your heart.  It’s a good read, promise.

When Gabriel (you read his stories about food in Tibi Eats and music in CP Radio), discovered a property in development by a family in Castellana Grotte, Italy, he was immediately intrigued by their mission to create a place for people to stay that was “not a hotel…not a Masseria…not a resort.” A lot of “nots” defined their vision for hospitality. This rang familiar as we, too, had struggled at Tibi years ago with the frustration of describing who we were using the stunted language of the fashion industry. We were not…bohemian, nor modernist, nor classicist…we just “were.” But “were” does not suffice. To be able to communicate, to settle the mind, it helps to understand not who you aren’t, but what you are.  We created the term Creative Pragmatist to do just that. Once we did, it settled us, in the way you feel when you’ve finally mastered a language. We could finally communicate.

For the Longo family, it was one word, “Casa.”

Gabriel reached out to Francesca Longo, the daughter and visual mastermind behind the Casa. “Would you be interested in speaking about how Tibi could partner with Casa Caroseno?” In under 24 hours, Francesca responded: “Yes, yes we would…what do you have in mind?” We replied: “Not sure, let’s talk.” Francesca: “Va bene.”

We didn’t figure out immediately what we would do together, but we did quickly establish that there were ample reasons why we should do something together. We brought in our head of design, Traci, to show her photos of the property and described the location as “near Puglia - but not a beach destination!” And, importantly, we discussed the cast of characters that birthed the place. The father Giovanni, the chef and big personality at the restaurant, the brother Giuseppe, and of course Nonna, the eternal source of inspiration. Francesca spoke of Nonna often when describing the emotional cues of the property: warm, honest, hardworking, thoughtful.

These aren’t typical adjectives one describes a property, or a capsule collection, for that matter. Deeply inspired by the Longo family and their traditions that were deeply rooted to the ground they stood on, Traci set about reflecting this heritage in the clothing, choosing Italian fabrics from Borghi 1819, one of the oldest mills in Italy.  The subtle placement of the embroidery on the shirting nods to monogramming, an ancient tradition and craft that signals timeless personal expression.   Just like the food in Giovanni’s Osteria, when the ingredients are pure, simple and the best, an amazing outcome materializes. Oversized shirts that can become an ultimate vacation staple when no more than a good novel and a soft breeze is on the agenda. Matching boxer shorts give the shirts extended life, creating a full look that gets played up or down, depending on the occasion. We were told of Nonna’s cherry stained dresses, picking and pitting the fruit they call “red gold” and we thought an interesting corollary could be found in a twist on a utility jumpsuit. Something soft enough to throw on without much thought, but able to get the job done while just looking chic…that unintentional but organic spirit that I’ve always associated with the Italian aesthetic.

We started making plans for a shoot. Do we bring out models or hire locally? Sarah said local for sure, “but how many —- it’s just a handful of pieces, does this make sense?” Francesca sent us pictures of the village, the locales where we could shoot. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill locale scouting of cobblestoned streets and weathered terra cotta walls Sarah was used to receiving. Each place Francesca showed us came with not a geographical description, but one of the humans there and of the role they played in creating the project. This would not be your typical campaign shoot, allowing for a day of casting models and fittings. This would be a small team, a camera for photography and one for film, and a daily schedule that revolved around a true desire to discover the personalities behind Casa Caroseno, as we packed into a small car and set about town with our duffle bag of clothes.

Here’s how it went down. You can imagine the awkwardness when you meet someone for the first time, especially when you don’t speak the language, and you’re telling (gesticulating) them that you not only want to take their picture, but also that they should just grab a piece from your trunk and “wear it as you would.” Now, take what you imagined and erase it. The cattle farmer Michele eagerly grabbed the jumper, hopped on his tractor joined by one of the many farm kittens, and got to work modeling. His father, Francesco, donned the baby blue shirt a bit more seriously as the businessman of the farm. At the flour mill, a different Francesco casually tied his shirt around his waist and got back to milling as his partner donned the more traditional striped version.  The marble artisan casually tied his overalls around his waist before crafting his next design, and the carpenters used them as both a covering and a wipe-cloth.

Peppino, the local farm owner who oversees the land, Marco, the “villager of interest” with walls covered in self-portraits, and the prideful maitre’d are all vested in the Longo family’s success. When one wins, all win. I wish, as you read this that you could hear Peppino’s voice, his gentle tone will stay with us a long time.  And Nonna, the “inspirer”, and the chef/father, Giovanni, completely at ease, at one point using his richly tailored cotton shirt as an oven mitt to remove freshly baked bread from the oven. I talk a lot about using your clothes, making them work for you. This though? This was new for me, and I loved it.

Here’s our team of Tibi at work, pausing for lunch, Francesca setting the table and posing in the Casa’s archway in her overalls; Giuseppe through the kitchen window making pizzas for all. The recipe for his lemon, mint white pie to come.

We have no idea where this project will take us, but we’re in no hurry to figure it out. When the right people have been put together, you know you can proceed confidently that something really good will come of it. In fact, if I’ve been able to convey just a bit of how we felt visiting this wonderful place, you’ll realize something already has. It’s worth noting I’m already concocting what those cherries may look like in a printed scarf for next year…. we shall see what comes, I’m in no rush.