The capital of ugly
The residents of Piobbico, in Italy, pay raucous tribute to their unsightly ancestors, writes Kevin Pilley
Policeman Massimo Bertozzi will be on saxophone; optician Alfonso Ioni on guitar and computer programmer Oscar behind the drums. But anyone can join Il Bandino dei Brutti - the "ugly persons' band" - and help them make as much noise as possible.
The band and a wider group of "ugly" men (and women) in the commune of Piobbico are warming up for next week's Academy Awards ceremony, in the United States. They are rehearsing their boos and drum-banging, which they'll use to drown out the self-satisfied speeches at the annual love-in of the world's beautiful people. Come next Sunday, heavy objects could be thrown at television screens. Raspberries may well be blown.
I am with them in spirit, as well as in looks, because I am officially ugly. I am an honorary member of the Ugly Club of the World (Club dei Brutti), having received the accolade in the self-nominated ugliest place in the world. The audition was a doddle, although I had to visit the heart of Italy to attend it.
like beauty, is in the eye and mind of the beholder," says Roberta Iacobelli, giving me a critical stare. She doesn't take long to convince herself that I am not Brad Pitt's twin brother. And that George Clooney is not in my gene pool. Iacobelli took over from her father, Lele, who died in 2006, as president of the Ugly Club, although she has since stepped down.
Barely managing to suppress her repulsion, she gives me a hearty smack on the back and invites me to join the Iacobellis' repugnant friends in a rousing rendition of the official "Ugly Mugs" anthem.