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Tatiana Vorontsova
Let's give it a whirl.
Sat Jul 21, 2018 14:47
107.77.94.119

Clothing, unlike jewelry, was not something Tatiana had ever given much thought to. Papa would have his people bring in beautiful collections of jewels for his daughters to select gifts from, but their dressmakers were under Mama’s command and Mama did not give her girls much of a say in what they wore. Mama had even selected Anya and Katya’s ‘colors’ for them – they had been wearing lilac and pink, respectively, since infancy and showed no inclination to change. Tatiana had stronger opinions on colors, but on cut and style, she did not even attempt to offer opinions where they were not welcome.

All this had abruptly changed when she had met the not-Pineapple-ladies at the dress sale. Suddenly, she had been in a position to make selections on her own account, and it had proven frustratingly difficult. She did not even know many of the words she needed in her own language, never mind English. Eventually, though, with some patience and Tatiana finally, for a few key details, drawing pictures to communicate what she didn’t know how to say, she had taken an example dress and had it altered to more or less most of her specifications.

The dress had started off midnight blue, and slightly blouson, off-the-shoulder midi with sleeves which had come together under the elbow and then ballooned out like petunias. Tatiana’s first order of business had been to communicate that she needed the sleeves changed, the tight part taken out so the whole sleeve hung loose and wide so it would be more in keeping with the Russian tradition. She had also managed to get the color lightened to a brighter navy and a slightly lighter blue lace overlay (to imitate the elaborate embroidery she’d have on formal clothes at home) and a yellow sash added. She had also – incredibly – managed to indicate that she wanted a wide yellow velvet band, edged in faux pearls, to push her hair back from her face – not quite a proper headdress, but close enough. The skirt was actually surprisingly close to the right length already, long enough to be formal without being so long as to let anyone back home think she was pretending to be a grown-up lady, and altering the neckline to a wide boatneck which would reveal her collarbones and part of her shoulder while still leaving a little fabric on the shoulder had been a fairly easy change to communicate. After that, there had only really been one thing to settle, and that something she felt better equipped to decide: which jewels to wear with this concoction.

Mama, she knew, would have told her to wear plain pearls. Tatiana herself had wanted to wear aquamarines in yellow gold, the gold drawing together with the yellow highlights of her outfit and the aquamarines lightening up the darker blue of the dress. She was wearing a plain strand of white pearls and matching studs. Mama had not been exactly pleased to receive a bill of sale in English and had sent Tatiana a mild scolding in a letter, along with one of her own brooches, a golden sunburst set with amber. Tatiana had pinned this to the center of her neckline, tied her sash on the side so the streamers fell down her right side instead of her back, and decided not to annoy Mama further by violating her sense of propriety about earrings and necklaces.

Even with the plain white pearls, though, Tatiana had been so impressed with her own appearance when she first tried everything on that she had rushed out of Pecari, intent on finding her friends to show off. Finding that first year with the camera first, she had managed to get him to understand that she wanted him to take her picture. How, between his total lack of Russian and her tendency to lose some English when excited and their mutually bad French, they had managed it, she had no idea, but they had ended up doing something almost like a formal sitting, with pictures of Tatiana (from the front and in profile) sitting primly on a bench, standing near a fountain, looking at flowers, and just standing with greenery as a background. He had looked thoroughly confused and slightly offended when she had told him to just send the счет to Papa, she thought, but by that point she had already been on the move again, too worked up too stay still anymore, though she had just gone back to Pecari and changed her clothes again, deciding to save her nice ones as a surprise for the boys at the Ball.

Now (after a slight detour to finally live out a dream and spruce up Ingrid and make her look even prettier) it was time to do that. She stepped into the Cascade Hall as though she had never been there before, being careful of her walk for once to avoid damaging anything, unaware that her total lack of make-up might have looked slightly incongruous beside the ornamentation of everything else about her to some of her viewers. Mama did not approve of make-up, so even Anya didn’t have permission to wear any and Sonia did so only where Mama couldn’t see. She was straight-faced and neutral as she entered and walked around, but broke into a smile when she saw one of her friends and started moving in that direction.

OOC: Tatiana’s ‘first year with the camera’ is Nathaniel Mordue, who I can write for since he’s also mine. I am also, despite having failed to finish writing it out yet, declaring her Not Sick anymore by the time of the Ball.

The ‘base’ I worked from for her dress is this: https://shop.nordstrom.com/s/misa-los-angeles-inka-dress/4946165?origin=category-personalizedsort&breadcrumb=Home%2FWomen%2FClothing%2FDresses&color=navy , though it’s basically unrecognizable as such after all she had done to it.

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