The Last Dress from Paris(15)

“Yes, I have reached the same conclusion myself,” adds Veronique, “but this is very intriguing, don’t you think? This collection is highly valuable. We have to assume that someone who cared enough to buy and wear these clothes would not have given them away lightly. And to the same person? Why would they do that? The notes would suggest they were significant to the woman who first wore them. And yet, they were all in your grandmother’s possession at one time. And then my mother’s. I would love to know why, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would.” But I’m coming up blank. Granny hasn’t mentioned any of this to me, so I have no idea how much she even knows herself. “Any theories?” I can already sense from the way Veronique is excitedly shifting her weight from one foot to the other that she has more to tell me.

“Well, it was not Dior’s practice to initial his pieces for customers, and while I am sure it could have been done if it was requested, look at the stitching.”

I take a step toward the rail, angling my neck forward so my face is pressed up close to the delicate outline of the A&A.

“Notice anything?” Veronique’s own face is trained on mine now, eyebrows angled upward.

“Nope.”

“The stitching!” she announces triumphantly. “It’s nowhere near the same standard as the rest of the garment. The initials were added later, I think, presumably by the A who was wearing them. It’s like she was secretly marking the pieces as her own, claiming them perhaps, don’t you think? Otherwise, why go to such lengths to initial the garments herself where it can’t be seen? It all seems a little secretive.”

Okay, now I am intrigued.

“But it’s not until you see all the notes together that you get a real sense of what might have been going on—the private relationship that the notes seem to document. Look.” Veronique takes all the cards out of the box and starts to lay them out on top of a glossy built-in dressing table that sits between two sections of the wardrobe doors. “Here they are in date order, starting with Black Swan. We obviously have no idea where A’s home was, but it would have been somewhere very special to have warranted wearing this gown. Then, two weeks later, they see each other again, and she wears the gray jacket and black skirt.”

A&A



New Look Jacket

Maison Dior

October 17, 1953

“Meet me tomorrow. I’ll wait all day if I have to.”

“I suppose we shouldn’t assume that A and A are a man and woman, should we? Couldn’t it be two women, recording something special or secrets they were both keeping?”

“It’s possible, I suppose,” answers Veronique, “but you might think differently when you’ve read all the cards. Look, the very next day we get the Maxim’s dress.” She points to the card that’s third in her lineup.

A&A



Maxim’s

église Saint-Germain-des-Prés

October 18, 1953

“I need you as much as you need me.”

“This is it! The dress my grandmother is so keen for me to return to her, this is the one.” I start to imagine the furtive moment this note might have been written. Was it late at night when its owner was alone, was it rushed and immediately hidden? “Okay, then what? What happens after the church?” I’m gaining a thirst for the emerging story now.

“If the two initials represent two different people, then it seems they meet again, ten days later in the Jardin du Luxembourg, one of the prettiest parks in the whole of Paris. If you want to see a slice of true Parisian life while you are here, Lucille, spend an afternoon there. Ride on the carousel, it’s one of the oldest in Paris. Look what was written next.” We both let our eyes drop back to the cards.

A&A



Batignolles

Jardin du Luxembourg

October 28, 1953

“Even if you never let me touch you, this is enough.”

“It’s quite a bold statement, isn’t it?” I’m starting to feel like we are climbing inside A’s head a little, not merely her wardrobe.

“I felt the same when I read that line!” Veronique is energized, like I’ve just confirmed her first thoughts may have been the right ones. “I’m not sure, but something about it just made me think there is tension bubbling beneath the surface. That maybe there were reasons to be cautious, why the cards had to be simply initialed and not fully signed.” Veronique has truly come alive with this story. Her eyes are pinned wide open, her imagination running riot, sucking me right in with her. I think she notices the smirk I can’t hide, because she quickly adds, “I’ve spent too many years living alone, Lucille, I’ve read a lot of romance novels, and this has all the makings of a great story! Definitely one I would read.”

“You’re right! But will it come to anything? What does the next one say?” We’re both giggling now, like a couple of teenage girls who’ve never been kissed.

Veronique points to the next card and we read it aloud together.

A&A



Esther

Les Halles

November 6, 1953

“Try to love me a little, because I already love you too much.”

“Then it happens!” she gushes. “Read the next one. There are no quotation marks this time, but look!”