The details of the early stages of coronavirus in Italy have begun to blur now in my memory. When did we truly convince ourselves that this was something serious and not to be underestimated?
I live in Milan, one of the first places to be hit, and in a way I blame myself for having been a little superficial about it until now. Perhaps many others around me had a similar attitude? I did take the basic precautions but I still attended meetings with clients – I work as a freelance consultant in the fashion and luxury industry – and visited friends. I even went out on a group hiking jaunt in the mountains last Saturday. And there was also the short skiing holiday at the end of February, before it all became really serious. And before that there was Milan fashion week, with tons of handshakes and the usual casual kissing, hugging and greeting people. It gives me shivers now if I think of it.
First, certain areas of the Lombardy region, where I live with my family, were put in lockdown, then it was the entire region on Sunday, then suddenly it was the whole country. Now how do we live? (I am purposefully not using the term “survive” – I refuse to.) The lockdown came on Sunday. My husband started working from home yesterday, alongside me. We have set up our office on the living room table but we keep a distance from each other – he complains because I make too much noise hitting the keys on my computer.
On top of this, I also have a teenage daughter, who hasn’t been going to school for what feels like for ever. You can’t cage a teenager. But that is what has happened, and she is giving me and my husband hell. She is doing school lessons online (or at least I hope so; she is usually in her bedroom).
I am trying to keep a basic routine: I exercise in the morning (my pilates instructor has shared videos via WhatsApp), then I work. I am cooking more. There is no curfew but shops close earlier than usual – while some are closed altogether. Cafes and bars close at 6pm; restaurants remain open, albeit with the proviso that a one-metre distance between customers is observed. The streets are very quiet, with few cars. People walking around are doing so at a distance from each other: what a strange feeling it is to see someone walking towards you and then abruptly move to keep that safe gap.
I am not listening to or watching much of the news or reading newspapers, and I am trying to stay away from social media, which is toxic – it’s where people are showing their worst side. Since Sunday I’ve started to keep a diary of events, which I am finding kind of therapeutic.
I keep in touch with friends on WhatsApp and Skype. I walked to the supermarket yesterday with a friend – all while maintaining that distance from each other. We joked that it was our half-hour fresh-air break, like you might be entitled to in prison.
We are all concerned and worried about the infection spreading, but I wouldn’t say there is a sense of panic. We are now very conscious that this is serious and that we must stay at home as much as possible and follow the instructions provided by authorities.
We Italians do not like to respect rules, but I hope this will be a major lesson for us. I am thankful for our trusted public health system, which is available to everyone. I am thankful for my family and my friends. This crisis has only begun but I already miss the easy freedom I had – I am beginning to realise how much we all take such things for granted.
• Paola Locati is a fashion and luxury consultant based in Milan
