Frivolousdressorder [repack] Access

“No reason,” she said. “That’s what makes it good.”

Then came the pièce de résistance . Celia arrived at the royal banquet wearing a dress that was a living mathematical proof of Pi. The bodice was a perfect circle. The skirt was an infinite, ruffled spiral of silk ribbons, each ribbon a different shade of blue, calculated to the thousandth decimal place. It rustled with the sound of 314 calculations per second. It was breathtaking, beautiful, and utterly, screamingly frivolous in spirit, if not in name. frivolousdressorder

The Queen watched from her itchy brown sack. For the first time in weeks, she smiled. The dress was absurd. It was magnificent. It was a beautiful, silent rebellion against the grey. “No reason,” she said

One day, she wore a dress whose skirt was a perfect, rigid cone. “It’s a study in acute angles, Lord Pence,” she explained. “Nothing frivolous about a triangle.” He grunted his approval. The bodice was a perfect circle

The only one who seemed unbothered was the Queen’s younger sister, Princess Celia. Celia had always been considered a little strange. She preferred geometry to gossip and algebra to alchemy. And now, with all the frivolous dressers in hiding, she flourished.

“Joy in clothing is a gateway vice,” he would mutter, confiscating a hat with a single, lonely feather. “Next, you’ll be wanting pockets shaped like animals.”