I found my love in Rogoredo

It is not only the seemingly endless summer—which is expected to persist for another two weeks with tropical temperatures—but also summer weddings, which appear to drag on indefinitely. Summer weddings might be considered a violation of the Geneva Convention, and yet they continue to be held in defiance of climate change—much like August holidays and homes without air conditioning.

A proper country would suspend them from June to October, especially in the ‘lock-in’ format, set against the splendid backdrop of a village in Palermo, Venice or Umbria, with stag and hen parties, the ‘vows’ – that thing where, thanks to ChatGPT, the bride and groom read tear-jerking phrases on their phones to another phone (’I’ll be your partner in crime’, and so on) amidst fluttering white napkins. Guests are often left fuming over wedding lists and the usual questions (how much should I contribute per person? But if I’m invited and don’t go, do I still have to pay? And, not being married myself, how much will I have spent on other people’s weddings in my lifetime?).

But now, along with the definitive summer comes the definitive wedding – the one you have to pay for. That is, by actually buying tickets, and it will take place on 5 September in Milan, at the Unipol Dome – that round, Guggenheim-like building designed by Chipperfield for the Milan-Cortina Olympics, situated in that incredible little hamlet around Rogoredo station that rises out of the desert and looks like Abu Dhabi (though it lacks a Louvre-Rogoredo).

It is there that the wedding of the year – and perhaps of the century – will take place: that of ‘Me contro te’, the pair of shrewd YouTubers from Palermo who are set to ‘tie the knot’ in front of a paying crowd in the 16,000-seat stadium. ‘Me contro te’, otherwise known as Luì and Sofì, Luigi Calagna and Sofia Scalia, are – as I have learned from the Corriere (having no children and not being married myself, I confess my total ignorance, though coupled with a growing admiration for this duo) – a sort of Cristina D’Avena but as a duo, and ‘on steroids’; they sing, make films and videos and write books, all aimed at children – and therefore the accompanying adults – reaping staggering profits.

Their company “Me contro Te” (owned 50 per cent by each of them) has a net worth of 27 million euros, invested as follows: 20 in residential property, 3 in cash in the bank and a further 4 in government bonds and similar securities (the latest available financial statements are from 2024), as reported by Il Corriere. The pair met in the town of Partinico (PA), but after their initial successes they moved to Milan – so no ‘south working’, but rather emigration and success in the north, just as in days gone by. Their business has grown significantly over the years, demonstrating how Italian creativity is increasingly making its mark through new technological means. They have even produced films—and with notable success: their 2020 release "Vendetta del signor S" even outperformed Zalone at the box office for a weekend.

Emblems of healthy Italian entrepreneurial spirit, they have now turned their hand to the ‘celebrity wedding’ format. The ‘celebrity wedding’ is a business that is evolving very rapidly: exactly eight years ago, people attended the Ferragnez wedding – a couple who were then a bastion of civil rights and inclusion, and the epitome of the most sensational Mediterranean ‘woke’ culture – before their downfall, separation and the repositioning of the male half of the couple (Fedez has now shifted to the right and his podcast is reportedly set to be acquired by the Angelucci family). At the time, there was widespread outrage because, for example, Alitalia—which still existed back then (many things still existed)—chartered an aircraft for the couple, who personalized it for the occasion. Children in Noto were seen climbing onto window sills to catch a glimpse of the ceremony, which, as expected, was ‘highly secured’. It remains uncertain whether the Ferragnez were aware that tickets could have been sold.

However, it is also possible that they were fully aware of the media interest and were simply applying a different business model, because a tightly controlled wedding is the flip side of a paid-for one, however it is monetised (in their case, the Ferragnez were filming a documentary about their own wedding – it’s like a pig: nothing goes to waste). In short, it is the Taylor Swift version – she too had a closed-door wedding (albeit at Madison Square Garden) and then reused the champagne flutes and hams (everyone is waiting for the new album to find out how, and if, the ‘wedding pig’ was carved up) – or, on a smaller scale, the Blasi wedding (on 13 September, Ilary Blasi is in fact getting married in Ravello to a certain Bastian Müller – all top secret. Previously, there was a hen party in the Balearic Islands. However, apart from the hams, has anyone ever calculated the amount of CO₂ produced by weddings?).

Returning to “Me contro te”, they have 1.6 million followers on Instagram, 3.5 million on TikTok, and over seven million on YouTube. Their followers are known as ‘Trote’ (a portmanteau), and the ‘Trote’ gathered at the Unipol Dome will witness the exchange of vows—so, ‘partner in crime’, ‘you’ll be my best friend’, ‘I’ll share the best adventures with you’, and so on (one can only imagine how thrilled Partinico’s relatives must be!). The wedding photograph has already been posted on social media.

Turning to the ticket prices, attendance at the standard ceremony begins at 48 euros, rising to 110 euros for the ‘poltronissima gold’ seat, while the ‘meet and greet’ option—allowing guests to meet the bride and groom—carries an additional charge of 250 euros, separate from the entry ticket. Luì and Sofì are clearly geniuses – both at trout fishing and in business: they’ve applied the ‘romance’ model to the hackneyed ritual of the wedding ceremony.

At launch events for romance novels – that is, the new ‘Harmony’ series, those light-reading novels that are very popular with young men and women – unlike at launch events for ordinary books, everything is paid for. Readers pay to be there, to meet their idols, and to catch up with them afterwards over drinks (practices which, in the old world of traditional books, the writer—like the old groom—must endure for free: he delivers his spiel, signs copies, shakes hands, tells anecdotes, drinks warm prosecco, and puts on a show like Biagini in "Io la conoscevo bene", all the while hoping that some kind soul might purchase the book).

Instead, these are two Dolly Partons from Partinico (the late Dolly Parton, with that little voice of hers, was an incredible example of a businesswoman: she turned down Elvis when, in exchange for her singing his ‘I Will Always Love You’, the greatest star of all time also wanted the royalties. And she opened ‘Dollywood’, a theme park based on herself. Not even the Ferragnez at the height of their power).

Returning to weddings, faced with these two universal and rival models – ‘pay-per-use’ and ‘behind-closed-doors’ – a third should be introduced: that of paying guests. Because the only ones who no longer generate revenue in the great wedding circus are these people, are us: we are compelled to attend; and if there is a precise price list for everything, there ought to be one too for those who are, as it were, deported to these splendid settings – perhaps to Noto (now Italy’s wedding capital) – including reimbursement for airports closed due to volcanic eruptions; with a set amount for travel (the ‘outlet’, as a plumber might say). How much should they pay us for a wedding in the splendid setting of Rogoredo? (Perhaps convenient, though, being close to metro and high-speed rail stations). A fixed sum for attending the vows (no less than 200 euros), a fixed sum for listening with amusement to the witnesses’ alcohol-fuelled speeches, and finally a fixed sum for the reading; especially in civil ceremonies, where the officiant reads inspired words, often sourced from ChatGPT: once upon a time it was all Neruda and Tagore, whilst the new trend is Erri De Luca’s poem ‘Quando saremo Due’ (“when we are two, no one will be one/one will be the equal of no one and unity will consist of two. When we are two / even the universe will change its name / it will become different”, etc., etc.).

It is unclear, however, whether the trend has weathered De Luca’s gaffe regarding Israel, when the Neapolitan writer declared “I am a Zionist”, sparking a subsequent shitstorm. It was late May, but it feels like five years ago. Summer was about to begin – the season of love, the season of weddings, from Partinico to Rogoredo, oh well.