see frocks with manifold pleats, ruffles, and ornaments, fitting so beautifully on beautiful bodies, I think they will not remain that way for long, instead they will develop wrinkles that cannot be ironed out, thick, unremovable dust will settle in the adornments, and no girl will want to appear so dismal and ridiculous as to slip into the same, precious frock early in the morning and take it off at night.
Still, I see girls who are certainly beautiful and display many attractive muscles and small bones and taut skin and masses of fine hair, and yet they sport that same natural masquerade day after day, always propping that same face on the same palms and letting their mirrors reflect it.
It is only on some nights, when they come home late from a party, that the frock looks frayed in the mirror, puffy, dusty, already seen by everyone and scarcely to be worn again.
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