Red underwear slips on, superstition slips in, and millions step into midnight feeling a little braver. Why this color, this garment, this night?
The woman in front of me at a tiny shop near Piazza di Spagna runs her fingers through a rack of scarlet lace, the kind that glows even under winter lights. A man, cheeks flushed from the cold, whispers to his partner, “Per fortuna. For luck.” The cashier smiles like she’s heard it a thousand times and adds, “New. A gift. Then toss it tomorrow.” The rules are loose, the hope is loud. Somewhere between romance and ritual, the city breathes in red like a promise. We all pretend it’s just a bit of fun, but the line for the fitting rooms looks like a pilgrimage. A secret one. Who started this?
From Rome to Capodanno: why red became a lucky second skin
Red is older than any boutique window. It’s the color of blood, birth, fire, and noise—the shade ancient Romans wore during Saturnalia to shield themselves from misfortune and to court abundance. You can see the thread from those festivals to Capodanno: red as protection, red as provocation. In folklore across the Mediterranean, bright pigments ward off the evil eye, and red is the loudest alarm. It doesn’t whisper safety; it roars it. **Red isn’t subtle; it’s a drumbeat.**
Ask two generations and you’ll hear two stories. A grandmother in Bari remembers her mother tying a red ribbon under her dress for the New Year, a discreet amulet before lingerie ads made it glamorous. Her granddaughter scrolls through Instagram reels of “Capodanno looks” and drops a red bralette into her cart before lunch. Retailers in Italy say December always brings a rush on scarlet sets, and Google searches for “intimo rosso Capodanno” spike like clockwork. Spain has a cousin tradition too—red underwear gifted before midnight for luck—while in China, red marks a whole lunar new year with the same stubborn optimism. Different calendars, same human wish.
There’s a logic beneath the lace. Color psychology suggests red primes the brain for alertness and confidence; studies even link it to perceived attractiveness. It’s not magic, yet it feels like it when a color shifts your posture by half an inch. Add history: in medieval Europe red belonged to power and sometimes scandal; by the industrial age, cheap dyes turned it into a mass symbol. The sensual twist came later, with 20th-century shop windows and TV variety shows that made glamour a household guest. What began as a talisman morphed into a flirt with fate—half amulet, half wink. **Traditions survive when they make us feel both safe and alive.**
The spicy twist: gifts, rules, and the modern ritual
So, how do people “do” the red-underwear thing at Capodanno? The classic recipe is simple: it’s new, it’s red, you wear it on the 31st, and some swear it should be a gift to “work.” There’s a final, slightly mischievous rule—discard it on January 1, letting the old year fall away with the fabric. Want a tiny upgrade? Match the shade with intention: cherry for playfulness, vermilion for confidence, deep crimson for a slow-burn mood. Then forget rules and choose something that lets you breathe and dance.
There are gentle traps. Buying last-minute and ending up with scratchy elastic that ruins your night. Picking a tone that clashes with your outfit and keeps you self-conscious. Ignoring that the tradition is for everyone—men, women, non-binary folks, couples, singles, the whole party. We’ve all had that moment when we grabbed the wrong size at 6 p.m. on December 31 and hoped for the best. Let it be imperfect and light. Let’s be honest: nobody really sticks to the “throw it away tomorrow” line every single year.
You can play with the ritual without losing its spark. Keep the “gift” idea but make it communal: a friend swaps a red ribbon with you, a sister tucks a crimson sock into your bag, a partner leaves a scarlet tag under your pillow. It’s the intention that hums at midnight.
“Red at Capodanno isn’t about seduction alone,” a Roman shop owner told me, folding scarlet silk with reverence. “It’s our way of telling the year, ‘I’m here. I want more life.’”
- Pick comfort first: cotton stretch if you’re moving, silk for the quiet drama.
- Make it yours: a red waistband, a hidden bow, or a full set—there’s no single “right.”
- Turn it into a moment: a tiny toast to yourself before heading out.
- If superstition isn’t your thing, call it a theme. Themes travel well.
What the red says about us at midnight
Capodanno is a mirror night. We crowd balconies and squares, count down like children, and ask the year to be gentle. The red underneath is a private dare—against fear, against the habit of expecting little. It’s a color that refuses to apologize for wanting joy. *This tiny flash of red is a permission slip to hope.* It’s also comic in the best way: you’re asking the universe for luck while fireworks argue with the sky and someone overcooks the lentils.
Maybe the “piccante” origin isn’t just about sex, but about heat—about staying warm in a cold, uncertain world. The Romans used red to ward off what they couldn’t control. We do too, only with better fabric and brighter shop lights. **Midnight loves symbols more than resolutions.** We put on a small one, we clink glasses, and we try. And if it works? Wonderful. If not, the color still made us stand taller for a night. Sometimes that’s all a ritual needs to earn its place.
| Point clé | Détail | Intérêt pour le lecteur |
|---|---|---|
| Origins of the red ritual | From Roman Saturnalia and protective amulets to modern lingerie culture | Understand where the tradition really comes from |
| How to “do” it today | New, gifted, worn on Dec 31; adapt the rules to fit your life | Practical steps without killing the fun |
| What it means now | Confidence, hope, and a playful negotiation with luck | Make the ritual personal and meaningful |
FAQ :
- Does the underwear have to be a gift to bring luck?That’s one popular version, especially in Italy and Spain. The “gift” adds a layer of shared goodwill, but the heart of the ritual is the color and the intention.
- Do I really need to throw it away on January 1?Some say yes to “leave the old year behind.” Many keep it as a memento. Treat it as folklore, not a fine.
- Is this tradition only for women?Not at all. Men wear red boxers, briefs, or even a discreet ribbon. The tradition is for anyone who likes the idea.
- What if I wear another shade, like burgundy or cherry?It counts. The symbolism hangs on “red” more than a Pantone code. Pick a tone that makes you feel good.
- Where did the “spicy” side of the tradition come from?Ancient luck rituals met modern fashion. Department stores, TV, and lingerie brands added seduction to an old talisman of protection and prosperity.
