Italian Launch

Ah Italia, another great love of mine. But I was a little apprehensive about why Italian women (like French women) would embrace my book. I brushed up my Italian for public and media appearances in Milan, and to my relief, the reception could not have been better. Everywhere I went, I only met women who were meravigliose. The fact that a culture admits that one can always learn something from another one is refreshing.

Italian style is, of course, something else. I got a big kick (and honor) from a wonderful and stylish bookstore window display (pictured below) at the grandest of Milan’s bookstores, Messagerie Musicali (Corso Vittorio Emanuele). After my first morning of interviews, my publisher took me by it as a surprise. I was astonished and pleased. As I was admiring the details, we heard a young American who was with a few Italian friends saying “this book is terrific, it’s the talk of the town in New York City and all my friends have read it,” to which Paola, my companion from the publishing house, couldn’t help saying to the Italians “and would you like to meet the author?” They thought it was a joke (I could tell from their non-verbal communication), but when Paola introduced me, they quickly translated to their American friend who literally went hysterical . . . could she shake my hand and take a picture with me? Funny moment. Later that day, while making the rounds of key bookstores in the center of Milan, I returned to the shop with the window display. To my amazement, the bookstore manager opened the window and wanted me to sit on the chair and sign books there. Being reserved, I was a bit taken aback by how everybody was stopping and wondering what was going on. To take it a bit further, they installed ropes (like if one was entering a night club?) and people started lining up to have their book signed. It was also fun to see the number of men buying books, and when I’d ask the names for the dedication, the response was Ana, Maria, Cristina, Laura, Bea, Francesca . . .

And amazingly enough, upon my return to the US, more good news arrived. Within a few days, the Italian translation of my book had made the Italian bestseller list.

A highlight from the French Women Don’t Get Fat tour:

I had a splendid time during the book launch in England. An odd highlight of the visit reflected one of the insanities of my current life. I had a major corporate conference call at a time I was scheduled to be on the BBC and shortly thereafter a “telly” interview at a studio on the border of London. So, I had to reschedule the BBC, but my British publisher was very accommodating and provided a motorcycle “taxi bike” to take me to my hotel for the call. The only way I could make it. It seems you cannot trust a cell phone for highly confidential conversations (as Prince Charles learned), so I needed a land line. To get there, I sped through London in tandem on a motorcycle listening to the driver rhapsodize about cooking and France via a plug in my ear. What a sight. I confess it has been many years since I have been on the back of a scooter or motorcycle. But, business is business.

Mireille with her escort in London