John William Waterhouse Apollo and DaphneVincent van Gogh On the Outskirts of ParisVincent van Gogh Ladies of Arles
Keli had stepped out of the dressing room.
Now, women's clothes were not a subject that preoccupied Cutwell much – in fact, usually when he thought about women 'What do you think?' she said, turning slowly. 'This was worn by my mother, and my grandmother, and her mother.'
'What, all together?' said Cutwell, quite prepared to believe it. How can she get into it? he wondered. There must be a door round the back. . . .
'It's a family heirloom. It's got real diamonds on the bodicehis mental pictures seldom included any clothes at all – but the vision in front of him really did take his breath away. Whoever had designed the dress didn't know when to stop. They'd put lace over the silk, and trimmed it with black vermine, and strung pearls anywhere that looked bare, and puffed and starched the sleeves and then added silver filigree and then started again with the silk.In fact it really was amazing what could be done with several ounces of heavy metal, some irritated molluscs, a few dead rodents and a lot of thread wound out of insects' bottoms. The dress wasn't so much worn as occupied; if the outlying flounces weren't supported on wheels, then Keli was stronger than he'd given her credit for.