Edoardo Drera

Milan / Italy


It has always been there, on the left. I still remember when I buried my hands in secret. My grandmother kept all the pieces there, all the leftovers. She collected the scraps of fabric that the ladies of the area, the province of Brescia, gave her. There was literally everything. They had no name. Or rather, in my head each of them found space in a specific compartment of my immaterial collector of matter. Each of them belonged to a category, to a family. I did not know the origin, let alone any information on the characteristics or whatever. I just touched them. Most of the time in secret, completely in the dark. Here! I had learned to recognize them, to give them a name. It seems strange. It almost seems like he’s talking about a real person. Or rather, of something alive. Each of them actually had something to tell. They had specific characteristics, qualities. Each of them would help me shape what I had in mind. They would help me build something.


I had them in mind from the start. Undecided and confused outlines, but still outlines. Lines that circumscribe an ideal figure, a dress. Lots of dresses. All in need of a concrete starting point to take shape, to come to life. It was actually simple.

The reference was already mine. Or rather, it was already in my memory. One of the earliest memories. A jacket, all blue. Very small, even if my mother pruned it as if it were made especially for her. In fact it really was. I never wanted to wear it. It wasn’t for me. But that’s where I started. It is from that fabric and that construction that everything was born. It was the basis for everything else, to give shape to what I wanted to tell. I make big clothes, almost always. I do not know if it is due to a hidden feeling that binds me to the image of children who were bought clothes that lasted even when they grew up, I am thinking above all of aprons, or because I believe that a garment is a space in which different body configurations can live with different ease. . Also, I never thought about making a suit for a man or a woman. I’ve always thought about just making clothes. I don’t think some people care too much. I don’t even think a body cares about getting into a suit made for a man or a woman. Instead, I believe that a body is more interested in entering and living in a dress where it can feel free and at ease. I make clothes for many bodies, to accommodate them all.


The first and last Thursday of the month, if I remember correctly. It is not difficult, just go up the stairs on the right. There you can find everything. Just rummage and look, but above all touch. The paradise of abandoned clothes.

Image courtesy of Edoardo Drera.

photo: Brando Prizzon

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