It was like an exceedingly beige Christmas day for Ellie. There were a dozen or so packages of various sizes, her new wardrobe from the store, all identically wrapped in brown paper and twine. She tore into the first package: slips and stockings. Somewhat of an anti climax. The next package was her pink work dress. Ellie held the garment up to admire it briefly, before pulling it to her chest and giggling. It was hers.

There was the tearing sound of paper, the rustle of fabric. More giggling. Soon the packages were unwrapped. Delicate items like slips and stockings and the stiff corset, things that would be next to her body, went in the dresser. Dresses hung up neatly. Her two pairs of boots sitting neatly on the bottom, their immaculate toes pointing out to face the viewer.

Her open wardrobe was now a riot of colour, blue, pink, yellow, lilac, and brown to name a few. Not to mention the plainer clothes she had brought with her this morning. Ellie just stood there looking at it all.