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About Turin

I tried it once, yo—shady joint downtown. Chick’s hands? Magic, swear! Little known fact: ancient Greeks did this shit—called it “anatripsis.” Warriors gettin’ oiled up, feelin’ loose—crazy, right? Made me happy as hell, muscles poppin’, but pissed me off too—why ain’t this everywhere? Cheap-ass gyms givin’ you weak rubs instead.

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So, I’m all geared up, ready to blast away. I mean, I love my job. Nothing like the sound of that compressor roaring to life. But then, bam! My buddy Marco shows up late. Like, dude, you had one job! He rolls in, all casual, like he didn’t just make me wait an hour. I’m fuming, but whatever. We gotta work.

roberto conte’s latest photo series captures the striking ‘villa gontero’ in turin, italy