For years I got ready for a winery visit the way I would for any nice afternoon out. A pretty dress, my good earrings, and, as the very last step before leaving, two sprays of my favorite perfume.
In an Italian cantina, that last step is the one that can quietly get you moved to the end of the table.
The last step is the wrong one
October is a busy month to learn this. Across Italy, member wineries of the Movimento Turismo del Vino are running Cantine Aperte in Vendemmia, opening their doors during the harvest, and the season continues until October 25th. Plenty of Americans in Tuscany or Piedmont this month will find themselves at a long wooden table with six glasses in front of them.
What almost nobody tells you in advance is that the most important part of the outfit is the part you leave off.
Wine is judged largely by the nose. The aromas that make one glass smell of cherries and another of violets are faint and fleeting, and a strong perfume in the room gets there first, for you and for everyone sitting near you. Wine Spectator puts it bluntly: wearing a lot of fragrance to a wine event is one of the rudest things you can do. Perfume, heavily scented hairspray, a rich hand cream, all of it gets in the way.
So an Italian woman going to a tasting simply skips it. That same afternoon she might wear her favorite bottle to dinner. Just not to the cantina. It is a different habit from the one I wrote about in the bottle Italian women put away every September: this one is not about the season, it is about the room.
What she wears instead
Once the perfume is out of the picture, the rest follows from how a tasting actually goes. You will hold a glass by the stem and tilt it over a white sheet or tablecloth to read the color. You will swirl, which means the occasional drop goes somewhere it shouldn't. And you may walk down stone steps into a cellar that is noticeably cooler than the courtyard.
So the clothes are chosen to survive that. Sleeves that stay put and don't trail across the table. A small, busy print or a darker color below the waist, where a drop tends to land. A bag small enough to leave one hand free for the glass. A light layer for the cellar. Flat or low shoes for the steps. And lipstick blotted well, or skipped, so the rim of the glass stays clean.
None of that is formal. It is simply dressing for the room, the same way you would not wear a wide-brimmed hat to the movies.
The outfit that works at the table
The blue floral maxi above is the kind of dress I would choose now. It is made in Italy by Tensione In in a fluid viscose, printed with a small blue floral that hides a stray drop of red, with sheer sleeves that sit close at the wrist and a slit so you can take the cellar stairs easily. Add a flat sandal and a cropped jacket for the cool rooms, and it goes from the vineyard to lunch.
If you prefer trousers, try the other approach: a butter yellow satin-finish top, boxy and soft, over dark brown wide-leg trousers. Pale on top, where you want the light on your face, and dark below, where the drops fall.
Then leave the perfume on the dresser. It feels strange for about ten minutes. After that you notice you can smell everything in the glass, and you understand why the Italians never bothered with it in the first place. For more dresses that make the trip, Maria's picks are in the dresses.
Sources: Wine Spectator; Movimento Turismo del Vino.
She travels to Italy each season to hand-select the boutique's collection.
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