SALOME, THE BIBLE’S VIRGIN FLOOZY, fantastically frescoed by Fra Filippo Lippi, is the logo for the town of Prato, and it’s well worth it to take the half-hour train ride from Florence to see it. This town first got on the tourist map back in medieval days when Mary’s sacred girdle ended up here. In a classic example of Italians combining such concepts, both the Virgin Mother’s Girdle and the Virgin Floozy can be found in one place: Prato’s Romanesque Duomo.

Mary’s girdle, kept locked in a sacred chapel, is nothing like the “this girdle is killing me” kind of my mother’s day. It’s a green belt that Mary untied when she ascended into heaven and threw to doubting Saint Thomas to prove that yes, it was she whooshing away.

The girdle was passed down to Thomas’s disciples, and then to a Jerusalem priest who was married (aok back in those days) and had a gorgeous daughter. The priest disapproved of a merchant named Michael who fell in love with his daughter, but the girl’s sympathetic mother helped the couple elope and threw in Mary’s girdle as a dowry. Michael and his bride sailed from Jerusalem to Prato, where Michael slept with the girdle under his mattress to protect it, until on his deathbed he handed it over to a Prato priest. The Chapel of the Sacred Girdle is decorated with frescos that tell that whole story.

Five times a year, with much pomp and incense, Mary’s girdle is taken from the chapel and shown to thousands. Because the event attracts more than the Duomo can hold, master sculptor Donatello sculpted a pulpit attached to the outside of the church, adorned with flying putti. There’s a copy of the original pulpit up there now, but you can see Donatello’s original in the attached museum.

The Duomo’s main attraction, on the center altar, is Fra Filippo Lippi’s cycle of The Life of John the Baptist, especially The Feast of Herod, featuring Salome.

As the Bible story goes, Salome danced so fabulously for her stepfather, King Herod, that he “was pleased” and told her he’d do anything for her. Salome didn’t have an answer for Herod, being just a youngster who didn’t really know what she wanted, so she asked her mother, Herodias, for advice. “Bring me John the Baptist’s head on a platter,” was her mother’s demand.

Herod didn’t want to have John’s head cut off, but since he’d made that promise to Salome in front of everyone at his birthday party, he couldn’t back down. He’d put John in prison because the holy man had called him and Herodias adulterers. Yes, it was true they’d had a wild affair when they were married to others, got divorced, and then became husband and wife. Herod didn’t want to kill John the Baptist, who had so many followers. But he had wife Herodias to contend with, who was a more vengeful type and held quite the grudge.

I blame Herodias for Salome going down in history as a bloodthirsty whore, when actually she was just a naïve Shirley Temple-like ten-year-old, who didn’t have an answer to “your wish is my command.” Over the years, Oscar Wilde and Hollywood screenwriters have taken Salome’s story and spiced it up, so now her name brings visions of “The Dance of the Seven Veils,” and it’s assumed Herod’s “being pleased” meant she stripped for him.

In Lippi’s image that follows Salome gracefully dancing, she’s shown holding out the head of John the Baptist to her unfazed mother Herodias, surrounded by shocked spectators. Only Salome and Herod look straight out at the viewer, as if Lippi was guiding us to have compassion for these two.

It took Lippi thirteen years to finish these frescos, because he had major amore distractions from his work. While fresco-ing and friar-ing, he became smitten with Lucrezia Buti, a beautiful novice, and asked the nun’s permission to use her for a model. Sparks flew in Lippi’s studio, and during one of the Feasts of the Sacred Girdle when the whole town was partying, the two ran off together. Lucrezia got pregnant and gave birth to Filippino, who would also grow up to be a great painter. Because Lippi was so talented, and his patrons wanted to end the scandal, the Pope stepped in and gave Lippi and Lucrezia dispensation from their vows so they could marry. Lucrezia was Lippi’s model for most of his masterpieces, which inspired Botticelli and Michelangelo.

A visit to this Duomo is not only a chance to enjoy Lippi’s frescos; Prato is also a leisurely place to wander around with the locals, taste their famous biscotti di Mattonella, and get a break from the tourist crowds of Florence.

Duomo: Monday-Saturday 9-3, Sunday 10-4. How to get there: Train from Florence Santa Maria Novella station to the Prato Porta al Serraglio Station (half hour), then walk a few blocks to the Duomo.

Golden Day: Go to Prato’s Duomo to see Lippi’s masterpiece. Have lunch at La Vecchia Cucina di Soldano, a cozy budget place that is packed with locals. (Via Pomeria 23, 0574 34665, closed Sunday, www.trattoriasoldano.it)

TIP: If you’re there September 8, you’ll hit the town’s biggest Sacred Girdle party of the year, with parades and festivities all over Prato. Other Sacred Girdle showings are Christmas, Easter, May 1, and August 15.