You touch your front with that usual gesture that I know so well. It means look at me and it has nothing to do with your rebellious red locks. Hands that mark the air, unpredictable like butterflies, hands colored by many rings, hands that let of lightnings like revolvers loaded with flowers. Impertinent hands that rest on your hips and say it all, they take me and sparkle while you do shhhhh! You touch my lips with your fingers, and leave me speechless. Now I have eyes only for your eyes, for the blue-purple, green-yellow trails, sea and leaves that leave me your caresses, the red marks of your rings that will return to awake our usual thoughts tonight. Hands that touch, rings that look like exclamation points, commas, suspended dots… waiting for you.
There are days in late November were the sun in Venice is so hot, intense and bright that it seems to last forever. The stones at the Zattere are white and warm that makes you feel like stretching out until you touch the water with your fingers full of rings of colored stones. The light bounces off the water and amplifies the colors that draw purplish, green, orange reflections, semi-transparent shadows as if it were colored smoke that stretches between the fingers and draws round swirls on the skin, on the memories of the Istrian stone slabs that are not there. they are more, on the little waves that break so close. The same lights, the same colors that dye the hair and cheekbones from the earrings, shadows that mark the face and redesign the mouth. In a moment everything becomes more yellow, the sun gives a flash before going down in the lagoon and freezing the air, the light and the colors. There remain the blue-green and blue-green reflections of the rings between the fingers that quickly fade into the dark to warm the cold night, promising another summer.
The hands of a women are hands for large rings placed between the forehead and cheekbones as if to defend themselves from sudden flashes, to hide thoughts and invisible signs. Shiny and scratched rings, gold shields, games, impalpable seductions. Long thin fingers, girlish nails and colored rings draw the air as fast as swallows.Hands made of tender carees and colorful aperitifs, hands resting on the wheel in reckless night drive, traffic light signals written with silver reflections. Malicious hands of voile with small light rings, plots of desires caress and silence in infinite tender loving touches between the neck and the ankles. Hands to laugh, fingers from irreverent marks, from strange rings, orange stones and vaffa… Hands from tears on the backs stained by mascara, black curls made, redone and stoned by fingers and rings drowned in the perfume of the hair. Nervous hands from stupid smartphones between fast thumbs and T9. Rings made of words, wrong messages, rings to smash screens and make rainbows. Hands to be disheveled, mops and freckles of children. Hands to change the baby. Magic hands sunk into a large mysterious bags. Rings and love, rings, rings, rings and thoughts, games, emotions…
The hands of the women draw the life of light.
It’s June ! Let’s Summer begins!
There are still a few weeks to go until the official start of the hottest season of the year but it doesn’t matter, we decided that we can just afford to open the good season in advance.
A Summer of heat, wind, light clothes and colors. Of so many colors. Of all the colors of the rainbow to choose those on trend, white, light blue, blue classic, pink schoking and a touch of rust that makes so much vintage and wild nature. And then all the colors that we like.
This bring a crazy craving for RAIMBOW RINGS, the same mad craving for colorful popsicles with the scent of sun, of transparent drinks sipped in front of the sea.
RAINBOW RINGS the perfect gift to celebrate our fantastic Italian Summer. A magical summer of Italian charm all over the world!