Matteo Ferri returns, with a deep and exciting, all-American story
I almost feared that the campaign with Steven Klein wouldn’t come through. Three days had passed since my agent said he would give me the departure details the next day, but 16 hours before the flight, I received the ticket. I landed in Los Angeles at lunchtime and headed straight to the set.
I had rested little due to the early morning departure with one of the first flights of the day, and the long hours of travel had slightly taken a toll on me; I wasn’t as clear-headed as I would have liked. The smile with which I was greeted on location did not reflect at all in the eyes of those before me; I sensed an obvious falseness that I had rarely encountered before; I had heard about LA being this way, but I refused to let prejudices influence me. That day was for the fitting; things were dragging on, so I began to wander around the location: I stopped by the catering to nibble on something (several hours passed waiting), then explored the makeup station and fitting area. To my surprise, I noticed that my profile wasn’t there with the rest of the models in the cast. Strange, I thought, maybe because I was confirmed last minute? It made me feel like I wasn’t part of the team. Meanwhile, models employed on the set were returning to the preparation area. I heard them commenting on what had just been done on set: there were also some acting scenes. In truth, I hadn’t even quite understood what was meant by “acting” in that context, but my imagination and the few hours of sleep led me to think in every way about how things wouldn’t go right. I had never acted seriously for a job, especially when one of the planet’s most famous models was on set. I began to doubt the abilities that had brought me there and whether I was enough to play that imaginary role I had created for myself. I wanted to know more about what was expected of me, but I didn’t know anyone yet, and everyone was still too focused on what they had to do. Finally, the time for the fitting arrived, and I had the pleasure of meeting Carine Roitfeld; both she and Steven were very cool. It was a pleasure to work with people who didn’t get carried away by their own persona. We ended up taking a break and enjoying the sun of that typical LA day, just enough time for a cigarette and a few words. More hours passed, and the confirmation of the look arrived.
It was late in the day, and we all returned to the hotel; I couldn’t wait to take a shower and prepare myself for the next day. The thoughts of that afternoon were still buzzing in my head, and I had to get rid of them; I couldn’t miss out on such an important opportunity. I sat at the desk in my room and wrote: I wasn’t there by chance, I deserved to be there, and I was forgetting that. I just had to be myself and enjoy doing what I’ve always done. Like dark clouds, those negative thoughts had covered the sun that was the people I had shared joys and difficulties with, those who prayed for me to achieve what I desired. I had forgotten that I was loved. I reread the well wishes from the few I had told about what I was doing; I wanted to make them proud and show them that the love they had given me was not in vain; I didn’t want to disappoint them. Gratitude now filled my heart and overflowed from my eyes. “I love you, Matteo, you’re here to make it.” All that was left was for me to claim what was mine.
The next morning, I could take a calmer look at the city from my room: Los Angeles is truly massive, much of it doesn’t go beyond the second floor; only a short and dense skyline rises on the horizon. Tropical vegetation peeks through the structures, seen from above like tufts of grass poking through tiles in a garden.
The filming begins. I had never been on a set of such scale with such attention to detail; I had been on large sets before, but this belonged to a true film production. Watching from the outside the scenes being recorded, I found myself ardently wishing to be in the situations that just 24 hours earlier I had feared facing. Now, I wanted to be the protagonist. My fears were unfounded; I knew deep down that I was giving my best and that I was guided by good intentions. I felt greatly enriched by the opportunity to work closely with such a renowned and talented team; this experience raised the bar for what I knew as the pinnacle of image creation in fashion. Happy with how the day was unfolding, a thought arises in me: to make room for something new, we must let go of who we were; a part of us dies to never return. This is scary because we often identify ourselves with that dying appendage given the uncertainty of the future looming before us. But experiencing this sensation time and time again in our lives, it is important to remember that everything will be alright in the end and that taking a leap of faith can be less dangerous than staying the same. Work wraps up at 3 in the morning; we shoot the final scenes in a villa in the Hollywood Hills once owned by Rudolph Valentino. Everything had gone smoothly; I met interesting people and received a great shot from Steven Klein; all that was left was to go back home.
I was very happy to return to New York City. I felt that my life had slightly changed after that brief yet intense experience in Los Angeles. A strong motivation to push beyond my current limits had taken control of me; I had seen new heights and now I wanted to get closer to them. I needed more time during the day to enrich my repertoire as much as possible, so I decided to start my days while everyone else slept and to tackle all the main tasks right away, leaving the rest of the day to dedicate to the gestation of new activities. Like a hermit crab that was growing, I needed a bigger shell; my shell was time.
For a few weeks, my alarm was set for 6 AM. As soon as I got up, I dedicated myself to writing, planning the day ahead and jotting down whatever came to mind. This was followed by a hearty breakfast to fuel me for the gym session that followed. From lunchtime onwards, I was free to pursue whatever came to mind, alone or in company. I noticed that although I was doing the same activities as before, doing them at a different time put me in touch with people more aligned with who I wanted to become. Coincidentally, on the first day of this new routine, I met someone with whom I would form a friendship and whom I would see several times before my departure. I felt completely immersed in the synchronicities that made up my life; nothing was by chance but rather a braid of events connected from afar. My life depended on me, and I had never been so aware of it.
Unlike any other city, I didn’t feel judged in the slightest and was free to be whoever I wanted to be. Every time it came up in conversation with someone new that I had been there for just a couple of months, a warm welcome would emerge; they knew what it meant to move to NYC for the first time, and I was discovering it too. No city is like this one. I was home only when absolutely necessary and tried to do as much as possible: on beautiful days, I would go play ball with friends in Central Park, or go bowling, or catch an NBA game, eat Korean BBQ, go ice skating, practice Hot Yoga, attend parties, and so much more. I even witnessed the famous NYC Marathon! The atmosphere was so wonderful thanks to the cheering crowds supporting the participants that while eating a cheeseburger, I felt the urge to join one of the future editions (even though I actually don’t like running).
Thanksgiving was another event that holds a special place in my memories. Sarah, one of my agents, was kind enough to include me in the celebration with her family and friends. Since it was a holiday I had never celebrated before, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. However, once there, I felt enveloped in a warm embrace; the atmosphere was perfect: a lovely setting with good music, food cooked with love, friendly people, and quite a bit of alcohol. The perfect combination. We stayed up playing cards until 4 in the morning.
The weeks pass, and the date of my return home is near. I would spend the holiday season with family and friends, but I had conflicting feelings about it. I had just found a new dimension in which to be myself, and I had to leave it behind to return to the reality I have always known and been accustomed to. Thoughts that occupy the time they find; only once I returned would I know how I would feel.
