Barbera della Vespa
They call me Barbera della Vespa, Barbera of the Vespa. Bows in our hair and brief glances. Shy smiles and skinny legs that still have to grow but are already agile, like country gazelles. Four young lives on a Vespa. On top of the grown-ups’ carousel, standing still in the yard for a snapshot one year on holiday. A moment later, the girls will be back to their fun and games. Chasing each other in the meadows, careful not to get their Sunday best dirty. The rows of vines will be the backdrop for the theatre of a life they are only beginning to savour. I’m made of Barbera d’Asti, I draw strength from the past, with four faces looking to a future that is now the present.
This is where my vigour comes from. Four lives captured together in an instant, interwoven forever.
I’m simple and warm, everyday and right. I could have had different icons: hills or barrels or bunches of grapes. It would have been easier.
This way I become a promise and a hope. I make myself noticed and I tell the story of a small Italian dream come true.