NIght Shifts

Never trust email or text replies to your job applications. Trust me when I say they're all frauds.

There are two categories of email and text fraud replies from greedy recruiters. The first range help them to build up their database. Unless you are an Exeter graduate, a Nobel prize runner-up at 23 or John Nash' reincarnation, don't expect accounting, finance and banking HR's call you up just to inform you "how delighted they are to offer you the position". They will arrange 120-candidates team interviews via
Blackberry while ordering a Mediterranean salad at the closest Pret-A-Manger branch store to their office.

Fast, ruthless and incredible symptomatic of the ever changing times, isn't it?
Then you have the crafty and tricky ones, those whose "recruiting competence" is proved by stacks and stacks of resumes, good to fill blanks left by staff members on sick.
A clue you're about to face such a level of incompetency stands in the line saying: "At the moment the vacancy is not available but we'll keep your CV for further applications". It gets pasted on every email body reply you receive, you must have noted it.

Sometimes it looks like vacancies get available very quickly. I still remember when Jamie texted me on a Saturday afternoon, back in November 2009. As the head manager of Shaftesbury Avenue's Bar Rumba club, staff recruitment was one of his duties. Actually I should have raised a brow when receiving his "formal" job appointment, literally saying: "Please cum tonite for a shift. I remember yer applied for a backbar postion last week, didn't ya? Black shirt and pants. Cheers, Jamie".
But I was desperate, alone in London, and hadn't worked for weeks. I needed the money.

I got to Bar Rumba club at 8 o'clock. By that time all you can spot from your yet not sweaty and frantic route on the dark dancing floor are sweathearts couples tenderly chatting about how tenderly sweetheart they are while having a cocktail or two before dinner.
Me and Gonzalo, the other runner-up for the position of "temporary part time 20 hours a week back-bar assistant", are being assigned two opposite sites of the bar: I have the dancefloor and I need to collect any single empty glass, he's behind the counter and has to wash them up.

At 10 pm the tide gets higher and higher. Black pencil ties on immaculate shirts pop up on the dancefloor. As the air gets stickier my job is to cut that air through to pick up and collect as many empty glasses and bottles I can.
Gonzalo is so busy his Argentinian firm glance gets wide open to the left and the right of the counter to check the exact amount of glass piling up on one side and the dishwasher programs on the other. He loses his Antonio Banderas touch for a more British Marty Feldman look.

At midnight Jamie pops out of the office inside of which he was busy chatting with a blondish French.

"You're doing a great job Andrea." - he says - "You passed the 3 hours trial. Now I need you to stay on and help me with this shift through, can you do it?".
Unless I want to feel the thrill of living on the street and going on a forced diet, do I have another choice?

At 1 o'clock I get finally familiar with my exact hourly time schedule. Every fifteen minutes Mark, who's in charge as deputy head manager, tells me how to dust the front lounge entry of the bar. Kaori, the Japanese wardrobe assistant, snatches me in every ten minutes to fill any blank space with purses, coats and scarves that need to be stored free, as a ticket price offer.
Jamie, peeping out to his employees through the ginger hair of his now Swedish partner ,pokes my shoulder every half an hour to remind me that "I'm a good fellow and that I'm doing a bloody good job". Gonzalo goes missing every 20 minutes under a glassware pile.

Three o'clock closing time sounds as a showdown time for my feet, who, previously too busy to bother me with their unheard requests, start spreading their moans and whines about how bad they were treated for the whole night on.
As people start getting out a lurid, greasy and filthy wall of breathed alcohol starts rising up just like laughing gas bombs thrown among Millwall hooligans in a 1988 FA cup aftershow. Either there and now there are people evicted from the battle venue while someone else's in charge to clean up.

At 6 o'clock I crawl out the backdoor exit the way Dante gets out his Inferno trip, except there's no Paradiso for me but only a good early morning stroll up to Tottenham Court to catch a bus taking me home. Jamie greets me telling me "to come back next Monday to sign the contract". I'm knackered but I got the job.

On Monday I text Jamie to have a confirmation of our appointment. Funny enough he doesn't remember who I am and it takes 5 minutes to have his reply.
"Sure. See ya" says the bard, in his close epitaph. On the threshold of the Bar Rumba he opens the gate just to let me in: the whole place, a glossy black pit very close
to a comic book scenario for some Catwoman, looks incredibly different without the pencil ties boys, Kaori, Mark, brooms to dust the lounge entry with and Gonzalo-Feldman's glance.
Jamie gets out of his office where nor French neither Swedish girl are sitting on any chair with two sweaty 20pounds notes in his hand.

"I'm sorry, but the boss was not happy with your performance. Keep the money for your work hours. I'm sorry but the vacancy is not available at the moment and we're not gonna keep your CV".

Itanglesi 1: Rosario Morabito

(Pic. Kate Rodgers)

Dalla provincia calabrese alla ribalta internazionale della moda tra Londra, Parigi, S. Paolo. Da una realta' chiusa come Villa San Giovanni, in provincia di Reggio Calabria, alle passerelle di alcuni tra i maggiori fashion designer mondiali, come Vivienne Westwood o Burberry.
Il tutto scandito da incroci dettati dal destino, anni di lavoro instancabile e una ferma convinzione nei propri mezzi.

E' la storia di Rosario Morabito, 30 anni, a Londra dal 2007, reporter di moda per alcune delle maggiori pubblicazioni italiane e da oggi anche imprenditore del settore grazie alla propria creazione "Fashion At Large" (per maggiori dettagli www.fashionatalarge.com, ndr)

"Fashion At Large e' un' agenzia internazionale di produzione contenuti editoriali nel campo moda e lifestyle - mi spiega Rosario, sorseggiando un bicchiere di vino rosso in un caffe' di Brick Lane, nella trendy East London - Il progetto consiste nel soddisfare il cliente con contenuti editoriali audio, video, web o cartacei su moda e lifestyle. Il valore aggiunto e' dato da una rete di collaboratori e professionisti gia' presente e operativa in alcune città strategiche del mercato, tanto in Europa, a Parigi e Londra, quanto negli USA a San Franscisco,passando per l'Italia, con Milano e Roma, e il Sud America, a San Paolo. Cosi' facendo - aggiunge Rosario - la rete puo' lavorare in assoluta autonomia e liberta' puntando sul telelavoro per abbattere i costi di viaggi e spostamenti".

Veri punti cardine del professionismo "made in UK", secondo Rosario, che negli ultimi 3 anni nella capitale inglese ha imparato tanto. "Tutto merito di Londra - dice con sicurezza - che mi ha permesso di costruirmi un curriculum di contatti, conoscenze ed esperienze tali da poter realizzare il mio progetto a soli tre anni dal mio arrivo. Non credo che in Italia avrei avuto le stesse opportunità".


Quando nel marzo 2007 decide di trasferirsi a Londra, Rosario e' un neolaureato in Scienze della comunicazione all'Universita' di Roma/ La Sapienza con alcune piccole esperienze editoriali alle spalle.
A spingerlo in Inghilterra e' un sogno: affermarsi come giornalista di moda. Per realizzarlo si perfeziona con vari corsi alla prestigiosa Central Saint Martins, mantenendosi con un lavoro part time al The Shop at Bluebird, concept store di lusso nel quartiere di Chelsea.

"Un posto interessante anche per gli incontri che si potevano fare - racconta Rosario. Un pomeriggio riconobbi tra i clienti Fiona Golfar, allora editor at large di Vogue Uk. Le chiesi consigli su come entrare nel settore, lei mi prese con se' a Vogue per uno stage che iniziai nel marzo 2008, una volta terminati i corsi alla St. Martin".

A Vogue Rosario impara molto. "Tutto, direi. Ho imparato che la moda e' un business, tanto nel confezionare un prodotto quanto nel venderlo, servirlo o idearlo. Che i professionisti sono tutti trattati allo stesso modo e che gli scenari da 'Il diavolo veste Prada' in Inghilterra proprio non esistono. Gli stagisti portavano i caffè alle redattrici, ovvio, ma accadeva anche il contrario. In generale lo sfruttamento delle risorse umane senza sbocchi nè regole precise non trova spazio negli ambienti di lavoro di questa città".

Un anno e tante collaborazioni piu' tardi (il magazine Tatler e la rubrica "Diary Pages" per l'Official Ferrari Magazine) anche l'Italia si accorge di lui.

"Nel gennaio 2009 fui chiamato a collaborare a Fashion on Paper, un festival di magazine di moda indipendenti organizzato da AltaRoma. Per me fu un'ulteriore opportunita' di entrare in contatto con molti professionisti, tra cui alcune riviste di settore che mi proposero di collaborare". Oggi, a un anno di distanza Rosario lavora stabilmente come corrispondente dalle fashion week di San Paolo, Roma e Londra per un quotidiano nazionale, tiene una rubrica su una rivista di settore riuscendo, talvolta, ad aiutare altri professionisti che preferiscono l'estero all'Italia, dove non vedono molte opportunità.

"Ho conosciuto Maurizio Fiorino, fotografo calabrese di 27 anni che ora sta lavorando molto bene a New York ed e' apprezzato anche da Asia Argento, ed ho voluto raccontarne la storia: i nuovi talenti ci sono, bisogna solo aiutarli a non farsi calpestare dai dinosauri".

Nel chiudere l'intervista, Rosario non rinuncia a parlare dell'Italia. "Mi manca - dice - soprattutto nella cultura, nella mia famiglia o in amicizie ormai a distanza. Ma per ora resto a Londra, che e' ancora una citta' al centro del mondo, a poche ore di volo da tutto: Amsterdam, Parigi, Milano, Berlino. I servizi funzionano, le regole vengono rispettate da tutti e si scommette sui giovani seriamente. Ma intendo sicuramente tornare, e dare il mio contributo all'inversione di tendenza".

Everybody's fine. And more importantly, De Niro does.

Let's call it THE I-Factor, where the "I" must stand for Italian.

Kirk Jones' 2010 remake of Italian 1990 Giuseppe Tornatore's Stanno Tutti Bene (as the original film title said), now topically called Everybody's Fine, is worth the try, no matter how low estimated remakes have been in latest cinema history.

But don't worry, because you won't be seeing any freaky Tom Cruise and dumb sight
Penelope Cruz on the screen, playing the unlucky Alejandro Amenábar's retrial of Abre los ojos, called Vanilla Sky.

Starring Robert De Niro as a widowed father-of-two grown up girls (Drew Barrymore and Kate Beckinsale) willing to catch up with them throughout his last lifetime years, Everybody's Fine won't make you regret the likes of Italian old fashioned mascalzone Marcello Mastroianni, who starred in the original movie.

Jones' no less than excellent attempt delivers an unveiled soft and smooth De Niro, shaping his wrinkles on his face not to accomplish Martin Scorsese's requests to play a worn out gangster role(The Godfather II, Goodfellas, Casino, Analyze This and Analyze That just to mention any piece of Soprano-holics syllabus) but to draw close to the late 2002's About Schmidt's Jack Nicholson image, leaving the main room to his beauty colleagues and being content with featuring the film behind the scene.

Cause De Niro, like Nicholson, is a top one. One of those who, like in all the many gangster roles he been acting in, knows exactly when to leave, doing it with style.