“Alright, young dy, here’s the basin to wash your face,” Jane said, pulling me back from my thoughts.
I scooped up some lukewarm water infused with flower petals, herbs and scented oils, leaned over the basin, and spshed it onto my face. Once I was done, I took the face towel from Jane’s arm and gently patted my face dry.
Cecil then handed me a gss of salt water and an empty basin to rinse my mouth. I swirled and spat. Then I gently wiped my lips with the same towel.
Jane and Cecil moved swiftly, pcing the used items on the corner table. They then helped me out of my nightgown.
Jane pulled out two dresses from my closet and asked, “Which one will you be wearing today, young dy?”
“Choose whichever one you think suits me,” I said.
“All right, then. This yellow dress will suit you perfectly.”
The gown was a warm, cheerful shade—like the first buttercup blooms of spring. Its bodice featured delicate floral embroidery with tiny leaves trailing along the seams. A pink satin ribbon sat at the waist, tied into a soft bow at the back, while the yered skirt moved with a gentle swish. The sleeves were short and puffed, adorned with ce trimmings. It looked as if sunlight had been spun into fabric.
Thanks to their coordination, I was dressed in no time. Normally, it would take longer since corsets and undergarments required much cing. But after much persuasion, I managed to convince my mother to let the seamstress create a more comfortable version of undergarments instead and forgo the wearing of corsets. It made dressing so much easier.
I expined to my mother that wearing a corset at such a young age could be harmful and potentially lead to serious health problems. Thankfully, more and more women had begun to believe the same.
My mother had decided to try the new design herself. She was pleasantly surprised by how liberating it felt and offered valuable suggestions to improve it. Now, she and many of her friends enjoy this comfort—though the traditionalists still scoff at it.
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