Not everyone in the Hamptons was wearing white. There were also sighting of bold patterns, in deep, bold colours, often with black. Here are a few examples, again in Southampton. I really liked the way the top girl was moving at a fast clip down the street. I never saw her face: she gave me the slip. But I like that little knot in her shirt, presumably to change the shape of the top, and I love the detailing. And Pucci prints, in my mind, like classic Indian motifs, will never lose their cache.
My husband, Mr. Dot, has been saying that I'm writing too much, and veering too far off street style. (There's no point in telling him to get his own blog: he wears the trousers in our family - even when I'm wearing them, literally, he's still the boss.) It's ironic that he should feel I write too much, because coincidentally, he feels I talk too much, too (even more ironic when you consider that he never hears anything I've said: I've read that men literally don't hear women because our voices are too high. And yet they tend to find high voiced women more attractive than deep voiced women, who they respect more. So we've got a world where men are sleeping with women they never listen to, or respect. Big surprise there).
So I've decided to split my blogs and make one with all kinds of photos. I'll let you know when that's up & running, possibly tomorrow. I might go on & on & on, or I might simply post photos & let the picture tell the story. But as long as I don't tell him the link, it will just be our little secret, and I can be my own boss. In my own little virtual world.
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