After Hours in the "Women's Fashion Through the Ages" Exhibit

I stood in front of the glass case, admiring the frills and lace around the sleeves and neck. The heavy silk, once a deep forest green turned mossy, held its shape over the pannier. Rococo French Court Dress, Circa 1780. I tried to see myself wearing something so magnificent and regal. Marching around Versailles, a handsome nobleman on my arm. Drinking wine until a drunken stupor drowned out raucous laughter. Sneaking off into the gardens for sensual frivolities. 

Taking in a deep breath, I sucked in my stomach. Unable to achieve the perfect hourglass shape the model flaunted, I found myself imagining my torso bound beneath coutil and bone. My breasts pushed up to my throat, my stomach fat jammed back into my spine. Add in the false rump accentuated by ruffles and I didn’t doubt I could catch the eye of Louis XVI. 

The dimmed lights glinting off gold caught the corner of my eye. Lapis lazuli and turquoise embedded on a beaded collar dangled over a sheath dress. Kalasiris, New Kingdom Egypt. The linen, once sheer white faded to sand. I blushed at the thought of baring myself shamelessly. Only covered from my ankles to my navel, a jewel laden necklace resting over breasts helplessly dangling without a wired bra. 

I saw myself hiding behind alabaster pillars. Whispering his name as he followed me into shadows. Dark as the kohl around my eyes. The Captain of the Guard shouldn’t stray from his post to chase Pharaoh’s mistress. Clinging to oil lathered skin, smudging red ochre lips with kiss after kiss. Susinum perfume clouding our judgment until it swept away fears of treason. 

I whisked myself to a final stop. Nearly pressing myself against the glass, I stared at the golden haori with blue flowers embroidered in the silk, the billowing sleeves. Silk Kimono, Azuchi-Momoyama Period. I imagined myself wrapped into the garment by my maidservants. Donning the resplendent dress while waiting for my husband to return from the war front. A dutiful samurai’s wife. Quiet and obedient. But proud. 

Greeted with a somber nod before removing his armor, I’d await his earnest kiss. Walking through the cherry blossom trees with silence between us. Admiring the pink petals he’d brush from my hair. All that time away made up in a single night of carnal embraces. 

Flash Issue 9