It was her grandmother’s, on her step-mother’s side, not really a relative at all. A hideous thing, it was, crudely constructed yards of yellowing ivory, with giant creampuff shoulders and a scratchy hemline. The bodice was decorated, sprinkled with dull gems, crusty pearls. The veil was, by far, the worst offender. A gauze with blotchy brown stains, misshapen holes, gnawed by rats. She bit her lip as her step- mother wrinkled her brow, poking at the skirt, the train, hoping it would burst like an odd bubble or mushroom at any moment.