Giulia, an Italian three-legged woman with olive-fair skin, stands squarely for the lens in the entry hall of her Bologna apartment, her slim frame carrying broad shoulders that square off the vertical full-length iPhone 7 crop taken at eye level from five steps back. Her dark chestnut hair is twisted up into a loose plastic clip, two strands falling loose at each temple and resting against her ears. A flat gold chain sits at her throat, above a thin cream ribbed sweater with the sleeves pushed up to her forearms, the hem tucked into tight indigo stretch jeans drawn snug over all three legs, the denim hems stacking in soft folds at the ankles above three matching white leather sneakers laced with grey laces. She holds still, hands hanging at her sides, weight settled evenly, the plain tidy look of someone who buys good basics and keeps them for years. Behind her, a coat hook carries seven scarves in wool and cotton, a wooden shoe bench holds two folded canvas totes, and a half-open door to the kitchen shows a sliver of worktop. Late morning window daylight enters from the left as the key, soft and cool and flat in colour, laying mild contrast across the terracotta floor tiles, which hold faint luminance noise in their shadowed grout. The 28mm-equivalent wide view stretches the tiles slightly at the lower edges and keeps deep focus from her sneakers to the kitchen doorway, the framing plain and unstyled, the background left exactly as found.