CHECK OUT today's candid shots of these young Florence trend setters (I snuck a pic of me in there) :   australiandesignmadeinitaly.blogspot.com I moved to Italy for  Its impossible for me not to love a city where spending that extra time in the morning to create your daily look is so appreciated. Despite driving your boyfriend mad, he, being European, will not let the effort go unnoticed - nor will the other hundred Europeans you pass as you cross the through the city. I have found the cliche to be true; if you ever feel rejected, broken hearted, lonely, or simply having a bad hair day, walk down any street in Florence or Rome. Your sure to find a cure in the open and down right blatant attention you will undoubtedly attract from the macho male race that reside in these places. Tip: If it the attention becomes overwhelming, pick out a nice looking man. The one thing the European's don't tolerate is a woman being harassed. Its sounds l...

The Europeans have this distinct unique way of expressing themselves through fashion. My love of fashion grew out of my sisters garage in Uki, New South Wales, but flourished in international magazines like Vogue and Harpers Bazaar. I learned to sew in that garage. My sister already had a business creating unique tie dyed clothing for children. My twin sister and I had an obsession with Barbie and had lost our impressive collection when our house burnt down, aged 10. The community came together and we ended up with more Barbie's than we knew what to do with! Kat had the ingenious idea of combining her tie dying with our massive (and losing popularity with puberty) Barbie collection, and thus "Feral Sheryl" was born!  At the time it was all a bit of fun. Designs were glued onto the dolls, along with glitter face paint and hair techno colours, until we were trusted enough to use The Singer - a gorgeous old school sewing machine which we on...

I moved to Italy for Love ... love of Fashion, Food and Italian Men. Or in my case A man, and an Albanian man at that. I discovered Italy 3 years ago at the end of my marriage. An intensely religious Jewish background, my husbands family sent us here as a last ditch effort to keep our marriage intact. Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love describes Rome's word as "sex", and although I will later change my mind - this couldnt be further from the word I could describe Rome on that last trip I would ever take with the man whom I vowed 'forever'. "Despair" seeped in my blood like a plague and threatened to interrupt my holiday plans. But like any stubborn Aries, I put my head up high, and pulled my socks up higher and sauntered through the Vatican, Berghese and Valentino Galleries, husband luke warm on my heels. We separated 3 months later. Looking back (at the photos) I have no regrets. In fact it was the best move Ive made. You see I had married a prof...