Italian celebrations for International Women’s Day are, usually, rather cliché: journalists and TV hosts become experts of women history and sociology, bringing out their customary speeches for the occasion, only to forget it all the following day, when they focus once again on this or that starlet’s surgically enhanced décolleté, or introducing with nonchalance scantily clad dancers on prime time TV.
On the morning of the 8th of March, women all over the country wake up feeling, all of a sudden, the urge to delve into the depths of an ancestral sisterhood they had probably forgotten all about since the previous year: it’s time to bunch up and hit the town, get tipsy and stick 5 euro notes in some random male stripper’s thong, all in name of feminism.
