A bolt of raw silk, the colour of honey, had been breached and now hung about her, firmly tacked…
For Kitty, this rite of passage, which she found tiring, uncomfortable, and inappropriate, was nevertheless an essential preliminary to any important occasion. It had been thus all her life: before going to a party, or to her relations in France, or on her birthday, she had had a dress made for her by Louise. The ritual was so familiar as to be unnoticeable: the silent consultation, the gravity of expression, the lengthy fingering of the material, the draping, the pinning, the minute adjustments to a shoulder seam, to the hang of the waist, the weighting of the hem.’ (Brookner, 1983, p.140).
‘But the dress, the dress! Sometimes it seemed to Kitty as though it would never be finished, as if the minute stitches would go on for ever, as if there were always another seam, another pleat, as if it might have to be dismantled and started again.’ (Brookner, 1983, p.149).
‘Standing on the sheet in the middle of the floor, she submitted while Louise dropped the dress over her head, while Vadim turned her round and secured it, while Louise then lifted the dress on the shoulders and let it settle. She stood quite still as Louise stepped back, lit a cigarette, and contemplated her handiwork. She stood until the cigarette was smoked, the inspection finished. Not a word was exchanged. Then Louise turned to Vadim and nodded to him. His face broke into his great smile and he kissed her cheek. Then Kitty was allowed to see herself in the glass. The dress was exquisite, so light, so easy, with the famous pleats breaking about the knees, and the long graceful jacket. (Brookner, 1983, p.150).
"The New Look is exhausting. The girls in the workroom complain. I could kill Christian Dior." (Brookner, 1983, p.11).
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.