Everybody sing Sanremo, everybody talk about Sanremo. We can’t deny that the event of the week is Sanremo Music Festival.
Every year February brings the music to the so-called city of flowers causing polemics, transforming each of us into skilled musicians or into esthetes ready to judge the outfits of the protagonists. Sanremo is democratic because is a topic that interests many people both who like it and who don’t. Everybody want to be informed about the Festival but then no one watches it on TV (or at least, they say so!), but five days a year, everything in Italy concerns Sanremo.
The most beautiful experience in my career as a journalist is linked to this wonderful ritual that is loved and hated. Living the Festival in the press room and in those holy locations like Teatro Ariston is exciting, stressful, amazing and mainly slimming. Rhythm of these days is a no-stop and is both a benefit for the silhouette and a mess for a nervous system.
The final is scheduled on Saturday 11th but also the first days gave us adrenaline and panic. Here what happened:
What happens if while you are in the press room and are working someone asks you to escape and be fast as Bolt at the Olympics? Panic! Bomb threat. And so, you understand that this edition of the Festival will be…explosive!
TUESDAY NIGHT FEVER
Maria De Filippi is the best of this year. Carlo Conti decided to not have the classic assistants (or co-presenters to be politically correct) but wanted a queen at his side. In the end, thanks to both, Maria & Carlo continue the tradition to have the couple blonde & brunette on the stage. Just a glitch: on Tuesday Maria was sick. She didn’t attend the press conference and put her hope in the hands of paracetamol. God bless fever reducer!
During the opening of the Festival there were few blunders! And I’m not talking about Maria’s half-fall due to the high-heeled shoes, but also and mainly about the crime against elegance. The female singers, except Fiorella Mannoia, moved up the Carnival and showed off some outfits that made us to regret the ‘80s. Girls, remember: you are not Lady Gaga!