Italy's Beautiful Obsession

"Italians are overwhelmed by narcissism," complains an exasperated Telesforo Iacobelli, who organized the Ugly Club -- Club dei Brutti -- to give, as he puts it, a voice to the unattractive.

They are a distinct minority.

It is here, after all, where female garbage collectors sweep Rome's cobblestoned streets wearing immaculate makeup and chic hairstyles worthy of fashion models, and where your plumber arrives dressed better than many American business executives.

It is here that the use of cellular phones as fashion accessories began, and where you have to look hard to find an obese youth. And it is here where even in withering summer heat, men and women, perfectly pedicured, meticulously manicured, toned and tanned, seem not to sweat.

Worship of beauty has, of course, been at the heart of Italian art and culture for centuries. But today, the quest to be beautiful is changing the way Italians eat and play, and mass media are changing the very definition of what beauty is.

The plump Italian ideal of years ago has been replaced with an emphasis on staying youthful and thin. Consequently, lunches of boiled vegetables are replacing plates of pasta in many restaurants.

Gyms work overtime, and "aesthetic medicine" to prevent wrinkles and combat cellulite is no longer the purview of the rich and famous; the most humble store clerk gets her nips and shots during a break. Nor is it the purview of women; more and more men are seeking help to look great.

With these very modern pursuits of diet and body-sculpting, Italians are in fact carrying on the time-honored tradition of the bella figura: presenting the best possible appearance at all times and at any cost.

The concept of bella figura, of making a good impression, underpins nearly every aspect of Italian society. It starts with the physical and superficial but goes beyond. It governs behavior, language, customs; it directs the etiquette of business dealings and the machinations of politics.

"It's strutting your stuff, putting on the dog, looking good, and it carries over into everything," said Gloria Nardini, a writer who lectures on contemporary Italian culture at Florence's Institute of Fine and Liberal Arts at Palazzo Rucellai. "Italians tend to think of it as something their grandmothers did, not something [they] pay attention to now. But they do.