#EDITORIAL: "Dreaming The Nightmare" by Sara Fabbri and Romualdo Corvino

There is a place where dreams blend with nightmares, and it is there that Giulia moves with a light step, suspended between fragility and strength. Fragile, yet never innocent. Fierce, yet never undone. Her demons do not frighten her: she welcomes them, wears them, transforms them into part of herself—into the secret core of her allure.

The styling evokes a childlike language, built on simple, sharp lines, yet overturns its meaning. Those very lines grow severe, almost cutting, unveiling a sensuality restrained yet explosive. The silhouettes stiffen, geometric, architectures Giulia wears like delicate armors.

The narrative follows her metamorphosis: the girl at play yielding to the woman who seduces, while every scenic element becomes an accomplice in her story. Shadows, flowers, suspended threads: everything intertwines to compose an aesthetic that does not flee from darkness, but rather sublimates it into luminous elegance.

The result is a contemporary fable. Chic, feminine, sophisticated. A story that withholds without concealing, revealing enough to let the viewer find her own reflection in its contradictions.