Dressing For Dot
"A woman should dressed first and foremost for her own pleasure… There is nothing quite so divine as the feel of silk underwear, the touch of soft fox, the slither of a satin skirt. If these things happen to appeal to men, well, that really is a side issue."
-Phryne Fisher S02E05
Putting away Miss Fisher's wardrobe was one of Dot's favorite activities. Not that she was vain enough to dream of owning frocks like her employer's, but she forced herself to admit that she did admire them. She brushed her fingertips across the vast expanse of the black evening gown, the beads gently clicked as the fabric responded to her touch. Dot sighed as she carefully nestled the gown into the giant oak wardrobe. Moving back to the barely discernable bed, she lightly plucked yet another evening gown from the pile. This was one of her personal favorites. Emerald green sheath made from a lightweight silk. It had a dramatic neckline, plunging far below the respectable length and accented with hand sewn iridescent seed pearls. It fell almost to the floor merely on the hanger, but it was wonderful to see trailing on the polished hardwood floor. When Phryne had it on, it seemed to kiss the floor as she moved. "If only I could be that elegant", Dot let out another tiny sigh, holding up the dress in front of her. In her secret heart, Dot wanted badly to be the sort of women who could wear daring, modern outfits like Miss Fisher. Wide-legged trousers and plunging necklines are all very well for those confident enough to carry it off (though it helped to have funds to keep up with all the latest trends). "A working girl like me could never afford to wear such fine things", she muttered to herself. These were the silent conversations she had when she could not keep her wants at bay.
The thin silk against her fingertips felt like a whisper. Her hands gravitated to the bodice of the dress, letting it rest in her palms. She let her hands slide down the length of the dress, losing herself in the feel of the smooth fabric against her skin. Perhaps she could at least hold it up to herself, looking in the full-length mirror Phryne had specially ordered. Holding the dress tenderly, Dot moved to stand in front of the mirror. She held the dress up to her, seeing where it would fall should she ever be brave enough to put it on. Dot swayed gently from side to side, admiring her reflection. It wasn't often that she allowed herself to get carried away, especially in front of a mirror. "Vanity was not a virtue" she chided herself, stepping back from the looking glass. Usually, she was able to reign herself in at this juncture. Finish laying everything away; prepare the room for whenever Phryne (and any potential nightly companions) may return. Then she would prepare for bed, have a cup of hot cocoa with Mr. Butler, read her Bible, and say her prayers thereby falling into a restful slumber. The nights she couldn't sleep usually entailed Miss Fisher sneaking around where she shouldn't be. Miss Fisher told her not to worry, she had her pistol and her wits about her. That never helped Dot sleep better. She hated the nasty spiral of worrying thoughts that came when Miss Fisher was out late investigating. She had learned not to question, but merely offer assistance when it seemed prudent. Over the course of several months, she had become increasingly interested in solving these puzzles. Dot loved the feeling of being truly useful, knowing things that would help her employer. She had begun to become braver, more sure. Dot was never entirely sure what her mother felt about her working for Miss Fisher, but now she wasn't sure that it mattered as much.
It was this newfound courage that led Dot to make a decision. She would try on the dress. Miss Fisher was gone for the evening, dinner with Dr. Mac and a few other friends for the opening of a new restaurant. She would be gone for hours and Dot would only have the dress on for a few minutes. It would be packed away before she arrived home and Dot was left alone when it came time to tidy up Miss Fisher's room in the evenings, no one would be the wiser as to what happened. She tiptoed to the door, gently closed it the remaining few inches and bolted it shut. Then she moved to the windows, firmly pulling the curtains shut, ensuring that no one could see in or out. Dot began to undo the buttons of her dress. Her dress reflected her life. It was made of plain, serviceable cotton, pale mauve with a small edging of lace around the collar. She held it out, inspecting it. Trying to see it with someone else's eyes.
The dress hung from the stand, waiting to be worn. Dot laid her dress and chemise on the low chair. She slid the dress off the stand and unzipped it. Easing it over her head, she let it fall, cascading over her. The fabric of the dress settled on her, it was as if it had been made for her. She reached around to the side of the dress and pulled up the zipper. Smoothing the fabric over her hips, she twisted to face the full-length mirror. She hardly dared to look. What was she doing, trying on her employers gown? Dot lifted her eyes slowly, trying to make the moment last. The emerald gown skimmed her ample frame, emphasizing the gentle curves of her body. Dot's dark hair shown in the lamplight and it seemed as if everything was heightened. Her eyes became a darker chocolate brown, her hair glossy and smooth. She posed in the mirror as she had seen Miss Fisher do. Preening slightly, she gave the dress a small flick, watching it move against her body. It felt wonderful. She had never worn material like this before and she doubted that she ever would. Dot gave a slow twirl, savoring every flicker of movement as the dress fluttered around her. She sighed, giving it one last look, delicately touching the silken folds of the gown. It would have to come off now. Dot didn't want to get too carried away and get caught in the dress. Unzipping the dress, she carefully peeled it off letting it slip to the floor. Quietly, Dot put on her plain dress, quickly doing up the buttons. She finished putting away the wonderful gown and all the rest of the items so carelessly discarded on Miss Fisher's bed. Later, Dot could revisit this secret moment. Turning it over in her mind. Relishing every detail. For now, she would continue with her nightly routine.