Those who have style can indeed accept or ignore fashion. For them fashion is not something to be followed, it is rather something to be set, to select from or totally reject. Style is spontaneous, inborn. It is gloriously deliberate, unpremeditated but [a] divine gift of the few. —“SPOTLIGHT ON STYLE,” VOGUE, SEPTEMBER 1, 1976 Eve, Dolly, and Ethel were waiting for me when I got back to the shop. Fee had left to bring Mrs. Meyers home. My three friends looked pretty guilty. “What did you do? Did you open the garment bags?” “Of course not,” Eve said. “You said not to.” “Then what are you all hiding?” “It’s about a blog,” Eve said. “A blog?” That was the last thing I’d expected to hear. “Who cares about a silly blog?” “This one’s not silly,” Dolly said. “I’ve been reading it the past few days. It’s called Vintage Dirt by someone who calls himself the Mystick Falls Masque. Seems to be a rabble rouser who outs local secrets. I believe it’s relatively new.
