I'm getting all starry-eyed while daydreaming about a fictional day in Italy — wake up to pastries and espresso, spin around in a girlish corset and full skirt, people-watch in the nearest piazza, and then text a hunky boyfriend while wearing a sequin jacket and no pants. I won't be wearing pants because in this perfect fictional day, all of the wine and pasta and dessert won't go straight to my thighs.