Frivolousdressorder Instant

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.

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

“Bartholomew,” she sighed, watching a courtier walk past in a beige shift. “Is there no one with a scrap of originality?” The Queen watched from her itchy brown sack