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About Milan

Here’s a tidbit—didja know escorts in old Venice used to wear red shoes? Stand out, scream “I’m here, deal with it.” Love that, proper rebel move. Makes me think—escorts ain’t just about the shag, nah, it’s power, it’s playin’ the game. Like me, Loki, twistin’ fate, “burdened with glorious purpose”—they’re out there, dodgin’ laws, laughin’ at prudes. Surprised me, honestly, how deep it goes—some even got secret codes, like winks or flowers pinned wrong. Sneaky, brilliant, pure mischief.

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After that, I decided to hit up the market at Piazza della Libertà. It’s always a vibe there. Fresh fruits, veggies, and the best street food. I’m talking arancini that make you wanna cry. I was munching on one, and this old lady, bless her heart, starts chatting me up about her cat. I mean, I love cats, but I wasn’t ready for a full-on cat biography. She was like, “Mio gatto, Luigi, he’s a legend!” I’m nodding, but inside I’m like, “Lady, I just wanna eat my rice ball in peace!”

Marcellina Akpojotor’s acrylic paint and textile works