I served disgusting pasta at a restaurant in Pimlico; babysat two little boys in Utrecht; made kebabs in Byron Bay; folded polos at Ralph Lauren in Brisbane…

Then I landed in Paris.

Working in fashion had always been the dream, and doing it in Paris was the ultimate dream.
I was finally here, about to start my MA in Luxury Brand Management, hoping to find the right key to enter this fascinating fashion world. With my BA in Psychology and my Australian driving license, I didn’t feel ready at all. The master’s went by extremely quickly; a year is nothing. Before I realized it, I was signing an internship contract at a luxury fashion buying office.
Turns out, I had absolutely no idea that dream world of mine was a complete scam. No one and nothing was real. It was someone's dream, but definitely not mine.
Yet, I still really wanted to be a part of it somehow. But I didn’t know how. After the internship, I ran away from that crazy vortex filled with crazy people. Then I eventually went back. Then I ran away again. I tried a few other options. None of them convinced me for more than three seconds. I was immediately so bored.

So lost.

I still loved clothes, and their expressions. I love every single thing about a coat, a beautiful coat. As superficial as that sounds, a coat can be a lot less superficial than the person who wears it.

I woke up with the idea of Le Boxfit in January 2024. I was “home” in Rome for the holidays, suddenly thinking of those paper dolls you could cut out and dress with mix-and-match paper clothes. I loved those paper dolls as a kid. I could spend hours coming up with different combinations, surprised each time by how great that shirt looked with those pants, and that bag. I wanted to do that for non-paper people.

So here we are.

Each of these pieces has a story, sometimes only known from a certain point on. Most things you’ll find here have lived a while before ending up in my hands, and then, perhaps, in yours. That, to me, is incomparable. Non-paper people are definitely tougher than the paper ones. But they also have feelings. And opinions. And expectations. And different tastes. And shapes. And needs. And that is exactly what makes it so, so interesting. The idea is to generate new narratives, built on the strong foundations of past lives.

Le Boxfit

I always wondered why I felt this urge to buy and collect certain pieces I couldn’t even picture myself wearing. Like I was waiting for a specific occasion; a costume party, a gala, the wedding of some strangers in love, anything that would allow me to wear these pieces I had chosen “just for that moment” that I knew would arrive sooner or later. A year ago, I might have found the answer: those pieces weren’t for me.
They were for you. Or that one weird friend of yours.
I picture you staring at your full wardrobe, your own personal collection of bits and pieces, suddenly feeling like you have nothing to wear. To that dinner. Or wedding. Or birthday party. Or lunch. Or breakfast. Or brunch. Or no special occasion at all. You just feel like something new. You click on that black-and-white box. You’re lucky enough that one of the models has a body somewhat similar to that masterpiece that you are. And that box (which might feature the words "Picard" or "Soy Sauce" printed in capital letters across its surface) magically appears on your doorstep, just waiting to be worn.
So you open it.
You put it on.
And it just fits, just as you imagined it would.

And voilà.

I asked my grandma to model for me. She had so much fun. I was surprised by how at ease everyone was in front of the camera, wearing those clothes I had once bought for them without even knowing it.
It is so refreshing. Reinvigorating.
I would have been so uncomfortable in that one outfit I had picked for you.