Scanno, Italy — In the Abruzzo town of Scanno, a 94-year-old grandmother has become one of the region’s most photographed residents, drawing visitors who want selfies with her in the town’s centuries-old daily dress. Margherita Ciarletta, a lifelong Scannese who has never left the hill village, has inadvertently become a monument to a vanished way of life, wearing the same dark wool gown with long black sleeves and a cotton headband since she was 18. She is known locally as Nonna Margherita and, to many visitors, as L’Ultima Regina, the Last Queen, a name that underscores both admiration and the burden of being the last living bearer of Scanno’s traditional garb.
Since she is the last person in Scanno who continues to wear the everyday costume, tourists increasingly seek her out to shoot photos with her in the doorway of the stone houses or along the village’s narrow, cobbled lanes. “Since I’m the last one wearing this costume, people come looking for an opportunity to shoot a photo with me,” she told CNN. “But sometimes these tourists are too many, and it can be annoying.”
Born in Scanno, she has lived in the same stone house since 1950. Her daily routine centers on wearing the same style of dress she adopted as a young woman, a choice she says she has never regretted. “I’ve always liked this dress, I am proud to wear it,” she said, highlighting the craftsmanship and cultural significance of the garments. In Scanno, women historically wore two outfits: a simple everyday dress for daily chores and work, and a more ornate version reserved for Sunday church services and religious celebrations. Margherita wears the everyday attire all the time, changing between colors from black to dark blue and white.
Local officials say the village’s traditional dress, and the broader cultural practices tied to it, date back to the 17th and 18th centuries and remain a living link to Scanno’s past. Now they are lobbying for UNESCO to recognize the costumes as intangible cultural heritage, a move that supporters say would help protect the craft, the stories behind the garments, and the community’s way of life as tourism grows. The move also aims to ensure that preservation efforts align with residents’ privacy and daily life, rather than becoming mere curiosities for online attention.
The push comes as Scanno, like many picturesque Italian towns, struggles to balance tourism with residents’ quality of life. Visitors are drawn not only to the town’s cobbled streets and mountainous backdrop but to its historical churches and the sense that time has stood still in the heart of Abruzzo. The spectacle of a famously dressed local figure like Margherita adds a tangible thread to that experience, turning a visit into a memory of an almost ancestral encounter. Yet for Margherita herself, the appeal is more complicated than a single photograph: she wants to be seen as a grandmother first and a cultural artifact second.
“People come looking for me because I’m the last one wearing this dress, but I’m just a normal grandma who wants to live quietly and pass on her heritage without becoming a spectacle,” she said, according to the CNN interview. Her sentiment reflects a broader tension in Scanno and similar towns where living culture has become a draw for visitors who want a story photo, a moment of authenticity, or a taste of a region’s history. Local officials, while acknowledging the economic benefits of cultural tourism, emphasize that the UNESCO designation would ideally codify protections for instructors, seamstresses, and artisans who keep the craft alive, while also providing guidelines to minimize disruption to daily life.
The costumes themselves are a window into Scanno’s historical social structure. The everyday dress, which Margherita wears, features a modest, austere palette that ranges from black to white, signaling daily labor and function. The more ornate Sunday garments—worn during religious ceremonies and community celebrations—reflect a parallel tradition of dress that marked social and ritual occasions. The attempt to gain UNESCO recognition for the garments as intangible cultural heritage would help highlight the careful weaving, dyeing, and tailoring techniques passed down through generations, as well as the rituals surrounding their wearing.
Within Scanno’s context, the debate touches on questions of how communities document and protect their living heritage without erasing its evolving nature. Local leaders argue that UNESCO recognition could help formalize preservation methods and create opportunities for younger artisans to learn the craft, ensuring that the tradition remains vibrant and relevant rather than fossilized. The move would also provide a framework for responsible tourism, encouraging visitors to engage respectfully with residents while supporting the craftsmen who keep the garments in use.
For Margherita, the daily reality remains grounded in family and home. She continues to live in her family’s stone house and tends to routines that remind her of a different era, even as she remains a focal point for outsiders hoping to glimpse a piece of living history. The case of Scanno’s traditional dress thus sits at the intersection of cultural preservation, community privacy, and the evolving economics of tourism in rural Italy.
As discussions about UNESCO recognition advance, residents say they hope to strike a balance that honors the town’s legacy while protecting the privacy and dignity of those who bear its living traditions. In Scanno, the Last Queen’s daily dress will likely remain as much a symbol of cultural resilience as a magnet for visitors, a reminder that culture is both a thread connecting generations and a resource that communities must steward with care.