What first catches my eye is the color. A depthless blue green. Copper weathered by spindrift, and I can’t resist touching it. I am wanting, so desperately, to feel beautiful, and somehow I am convinced that the loveliness of this fluid ideal of crushed silk and gossamer lace will seep into my skin, into the flagging image of myself. I imagine it sliding over my shoulders. Imagine it must be like slipping into water, and at once I am longing for the ocean, longing to be, where in my element, I am resplendent.