A Quiet Morning: The Ritual of Slowness

There is a kind of perfection in a morning that begins slowly. For me, breakfast is not a task to be checked off—it’s a ritual, a sacred moment of grounding. If rushed, the day loses its center. My ideal day begins not in my kitchen, but in motion. I get dressed, simply but deliberately—soft shirt, trousers that breathe, sunglasses—and step into the morning light.

I walk to Pasticceria Giorgio, a place slightly off the map but perfectly within reach of serenity. Just thinking of it eases the breath. There, a cappuccino and brioche await, warm and fragrant, shining like small offerings behind the glass. I sit outdoors beneath a pale umbrella, the sun playing softly across the table, and let time slow down.

Often, I bring a book or a magazine—anything to keep my hands away from the phone. In these early hours, the city hasn't yet woken up fully. There’s a stillness. A hush. And in that hush, a space opens for something rare: presence.

Eventually, I return home, dress for the day ahead. I fill my bag with what I need—laptop, planner, a pen I love—and head to the office.

But coffee remains a constant, not for the caffeine, but for the pause it insists on. After lunch, I stop at Gilli, nestled in the heart of Florence. A macchiato, small and strong, becomes my anchor. It’s not about the quantity. It’s about the moment—about holding still, about letting yourself feel.

These pauses, these daily rituals, are the essence of Capsule 00. They begin at home, in the quiet textures of linen, the way light falls through sheer curtains, the slow dressing of a life lived with care. This capsule is an ode to calm—anchored in purity and illuminated in white. White as a language of restraint. Of softness. Of light made wearable.

Like the collection itself, this day is not about invention—it’s about return. A return to self, to slowness, to the gentle pleasures that define our most human moments.

The pieces in Capsule 00 mirror this intention: they are made to hold space, to move with you, to carry the imprint of memory and mood. Just as coffee is a moment of stillness in the chaos of a day, these garments are a breath—a quiet exhale—between all the becoming.

For the cover of “A Quiet Morning: The Ritual of Slowness” we used artwork of Rothko.