Italy is the place for stargazers, where you can keep your dreams alive, give them a thousand lives and drench them in joy. Italians are like the French in a good mood. They leave the splendours of Rome behind, one eye on the rear-view mirror of their convertible, a playful smile on their lips, the wind in their hair. The dolce vita often begins with a getaway. The red leather of the steering wheel brings a flush to their cheeks. Beauty stretches out lazily with each passing mile. Man blends seamlessly with the landscape, as the roads hug the sensual shape of the fields and valleys. It has been said that language diversity stems from the variability of climates. Italian Leather speaks the Italian of Rome, the one drowsily murmured in the seat of a cabriolet during an impromptu lover's siesta. It teams the simplicity of green tomato leaf with the sophisticated beauty of leather, myrrh and vanilla absolute. A lucid dream.
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