ROT is the attempt to free oneself from tension without ever succeeding.
ROT is the threshold between solid and fluid.
Fire is ROT.
Marble is ROT.
To be bored while others are having fun is ROT.
ROT is “deep red oblique symmetry.”
Floor heating is ROT, thermostats not at all.
Steel is very ROT.
ROT is tamaracky, but chic (but chic as hell).
ROT is the threshold between sensuality and shyness.
ROT is Annarella.
ROT is having at least one session of EMDR.
ROT is life, death and miracles.
ROT is constant metamorphosis, without end and without end.
Fountains are ROT.
ROT is the word of the year. Of any year.
ROT is 69.
ROT is abundance but passion for the essential.
Incense is very ROT.
Dostoevsky is ROT, Tolstoy is not.
Mummies are very ROT.
Decorum is not ROT.
ROT is having fun when others are bored.
The staircases are ROT.
ROT is aspiring to perfection and then destroying it.
ROT is wanting to get laid and not getting laid.
ROT is doing everything at the wrong age.
ROT is fidelity to the line.
Sudden changes of register are ROT.
De Chirico's paintings are ROT, Savinio's paintings are ROT.
ROT is today's surrealist living room: a techno room.
ROT is practicing too much theory.
ROT is an “Aristocratica” song.
ROT is analog and technological.
ROT is the outfit for singing an “Electrochoc.”
ROT is persistently trying to define the indefinable.
Concrete is ROT.
ROT is improvising following the script.
Arte Povera is ROT, Pop Art is not.
ROT is Lazio and Emilia-Romagna: the center that is not south and the north that is not center.
Gothic is ROT.
ROT means "rot" in English.
Electrochoc is ROT.
White cubes are ROT, period rooms are not.
Deflowering is ROT.
Psychomagic is ROT.
ROT is the threshold between form and formlessness.
Eardrum-busting voices are ROT.
Getting your papers read while working on Excel is ROT.
ROT is the color of oxygen-laden blood.
ROT is following some rules, and breaking them too.
Back and neck are ROT.
ROT is lightness and gravity together.
White flowers are ROT, violets are ROT, daisies are not.
ROT is a body without organs.
ROT is without beginning, without end, without gender, without size.
Gloves are mega ROT.
ROT is furnishing a loft with Baroque paintings.
ROT is mega queer.
ROT is Reality Orientation Therapy.
ROT is cashmere and lycra.
ROT is spending more than you earn.
ROT means “red” in German.
ROT is decontextualizing oneself.
ROT is aspiring for freedom by constructing rules.
Unbuttoning is very ROT.
To have nothing left to read about Dostoevsky and to binge on TikTok is (brain) ROT.
ROT is ripping a cashmere dress while dancing to techno.
Ghost stories are ROT.
ROT is discipline that hates itself.
Smoked glass is ROT.
Contemporary dance is ROT, hip hop is not.
Being morbidly attached to memory is ROT.
ROT does not make (one) sense.
Brutalism is ROT.
ROT is a dysfunctional family.
Fog is ROT.
A luxury knitwear collection that develops through the dialogue between structure and fading, between the body that takes shape and the formless that challenges it. Fine materials such as cashmere and silk are woven into intricate workings that envelop the body with precision and lightness, enhancing the silhouette without ever constricting it. Each garment is a balance between discipline and freedom, between what is meant to last and what is constantly evolving.
