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I couldn't tell exactly when I decided to become a fashion designer.

Ever since I was a little child I used to draw sketches on every piece of paper that came to my hands, and nowaways it hasn't changed much: always carrying a pencil and drawing sketches: trying over and over again until you finally get the right one, that one you are absolutely sure about.

Yet, true inspiration usually originates from the textile. I've always liked searching for beautiful fabrics, the ones with unique colours and weaves.

As soon as I find one I immediately start to think about the beautiful things I could do with that fabric, then - after having imagined many croquis - I finally have the definitive sketch. That's the only way it can be: I found it!

At this point uncertainties disappear. This is not arrogance. Sure, I could maybe have second thoughts, yet that one sketch is the result of a long creative path and it seems destined to be just what it is.

I also owe my inspiration to my many journeys. The neverending colours and fabrics of India and China; the extremely vital atmospheres of Northern Africa; the girls and the shop windows in Paris; the gardens and the atmospheres in London; the extravagant looks of youngsters in New York and Berlin. Yet, also Japanese prints and refinements; Gianfranco Ferré's white shirts; Richard Avedon's photographs and the tapered lines of Christian Dior jackets. And then: theatre costumes, cinema and... inspiration never ends, it is all around in the world, wherever there is beauty.