Can anyone say, with precision and certainty, when a golden age begins and ends? Can they be separated from the bronze? Or are they the colors of the rainbow, consigned to secret delineation? Once upon a time, there really were wardrobes, distinct pieces tailored to each separate occasion, shoes for lunch, the right shoes for dinner. There were hats. There were hatpins. Engaging the beauty and romance of clothing had dignified behavior, she thought, bettering the way one thought and felt about oneself and the world. “Today,” she said, “with all our pretensions of being free, we really are more
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