When Chiara draws she moves slowly, bringing a lump to the throat. This is what Chiara experiences when she embarks on the adventure of making a dress. She likes being in the thick of it, following her intuition, uncertain of what will happen when she takes something into her hands, she is in a sort of trance, and in that very moment, Chiara enters the forest of images. She never gets lost "in the woods" for she lives there, she’s familiar with it’s every detail and form, and she speaks the language of its inhabitants, and breathes, breathes with a common lung.
The forest is her studio and it is in a portion of its magnitude that one finds Chiara’s mannequin, with which she interacts, upon which she builds her model, playing for asymmetries in keeping with the tailoring tradition. In a meticulous, careful way, Chiara adds and subtracts scraps of precious styles.
Then, she falls into a deep sleep, letting nature run its course, as if asking for confirmation, as if the ancient trees were participating in bringing her clothes to life. Her awakening is staggering, overpowering the senses.
Giorgio Bramante Donini