13
Vera Pavlovna sat on her couch, luxuriating during the late morning hours. She was not tired, but she teetered on the brink of consciousness. The down cushions were soft beneath her body, and she felt them enshroud her with warmth as she nestled into the corner of the divan. Sunlight poured in through the window and played across her face. The window was slightly ajar and a crisp breeze was blowing in through the crack. The air coming in was soft and somewhat warm; it signified the onset of spring. The thaw of winter was near complete and the harsh, frigid winds had ceased to blow. Although spring was approaching, it had been only a few weeks since their last winter picnic of the season. As she lied on her couch, Vera recalled their excursion that night. She joyously remembered how the two carriages had recklessly raced down the avenue, her boisterous cohorts laughing and singing songs. Then she felt a tinge of sadness for the lady in mourning. How her expression had betrayed her sadness while she sat between the two merry couples.
But then the warm breeze drifted in through the crack again. It carried with it the smell of moist, fertile earth and immediately overshadowed thoughts of the last harsh winter. Vera Pavlovna was once again reminded of her dream of the Crystal Palace. She envisioned the lush green fields riddled with flowers that stretched until the base of the towering mountains. There was a sense of youth and fecundity that pervaded the air. Children with rosy cheeks and plump bodies happily chased each other, while the adults, lazily splayed upon the soft earth, watched listlessly. Youth abounded in the fields and elderly people, though rare, were lightly scattered throughout the group. Then Vera Pavlovna was struck by the sight of the Crystal Palace looming in the distance. It was a marvelous sight—a magnificent construction. Sunlight shone on its façade and practically blinded Vera Pavlovna as she stood awestruck, staring at the palace…
"Good morning, my Verochka!"
Vera Pavlovna was jostled from her serene state of dreaming as Alexander sprang in through the door, tea service in tow. It was their wont to share tea together in Vera Pavlovna's room during the late morning hours. He set the tea service in front of her divan and, checking his boisterous behavior, lightly sat down next to her on the cushion.
"I'm sorry, my friend. Did I disturb you? Stepan set the tea service up outside your room. I assumed it was time."
"No, not at all, Sasha. I was just taking a moment to relax. I have been dreading the arrival of my exam scores for a week now. All this worry absolutely drains the life from me."
This was true. Although she busied herself with the shop and the apartment and attempted to conceal her anxiety, Vera Pavlovna could be spotted pacing throughout the rooms, wringing her hands, awaiting the arrival of the messenger.
"My dear, I assure you there is nothing to worry about. You are highly qualified and you invested countless hours in studying for your exams."
Following these words of reassurance, Alexander Kirsanov served Vera Pavlovna a cup of tea with plenty of cream. He then poured himself a cup and began to discuss a most peculiar patient at the hospital. Vera Pavlovna thoroughly enjoyed hearing about his patients, and often times offered him advice. On more than one occasion her observations and recommendations, ones which even the most skilled and experienced doctors failed to notice, made a positive impact on the condition of a patient whose fate was until then decidedly grim.
Their chatting continued for nearly an hour. They had decided to finish tea and visit the Beaumonts when Vera Pavlovna's door suddenly flew open again. Katerina Vasilievna bounded into the room, cheeks flushed, and her hand gripping a large brown envelope.
"I think they've arrived Vera! I think they've finally arrived!" Katerina Vasilievna cried in an exalted state. "A messenger arrived only moments ago! He said he was sent from the medical institute!"
Vera Pavlovna jumped up from her divan and hurried over to Katya. She hastily took the delivery from Katerina's hands and anxiously observed the surface. The envelope had indeed just arrived from the medical institute.
"Open it! What are you waiting for?" Katerine Vasilievna screeched.
Vera Pavlovna carefully tore off the top of the envelope and slowly extracted its contents. She clutched the documents nervously and bit her lip as her eyes scanned the pages.
"Well, my dear?" Alexander Kirsanov inquired.
"I've passed," Vera Pavlovna calmly replied. Then, as if she finally grasped the meaning of the results, "I've passed!" Katya ran over to Vera and threw her arms around her yelping with glee. All three of them embraced, bouncing joyfully. Katya then dashed out of the room to make arrangements for the celebration that would take place that night. As Vera Pavlovna stood nestled in her husband's embrace, the documents still clutched in her right hand, the spires of the Crystal Palace loomed again in her imagination.
That night a celebration ensued. Katerina Vasilievna and Beaumont were able to procure the finest meats, fish, cheeses, and spirits for the evening. And despite the short notice, all the members of their circle were able to attend. There was much gaiety, singing and laughing. Again they played a game where two groups gathered behind both Vera and Katerina, who were seated at two different pianos, and attempted to out sing the other. Many discussed Vera's future plans and there was much debate about what she should do now that she had passed her exams. Many insisted that she desert her dressmaking business and devote all her time to establishing a private practice. Others stressed the importance of her former enterprise and recommended that she consider its fragility and the fate of all her workers before she embark on a medical profession. Circles of discussion formed and Beaumont, upon spotting them, would venture over and attempt to remove himself from the singing and merrymaking. But each time Katerina would grab him by the arm and pull him into the center of the room, cheerfully repeating, "Now, now, my dear. This is a special occasion. Humor me with a dance!"
But two years have passed since that night of the celebration and now we view Vera Pavlovna in an office examining a young woman. Do not assume for one moment that this position was easily procured by Vera Pavlovna. It took over a year for Vera Pavlovna to establish a private practice and it was an especially harrowing experience. If she had not had the unconditional support of Alexander Kirsanov it would have been virtually impossible. It was he who was finally able to convince his colleagues to grant her a position. What was even more frustrating when she finally opened her practice was her lack of patients. Many people were not willing to entrust their health and wellbeing to a woman doctor. But Vera Pavlovna did not become discouraged. She started slowly, only treating the girls who were employed at the dressmaking shop and their families. Soon word spread about her professional conduct and the comfort her seamstresses felt explaining their medical ailments to her –medical ailments that they were formerly too embarrassed to mention to a male doctor. Talk of this female doctor spread rampantly, and before she knew it, Vera Pavlovna's office was flooded with women from all levels of society. Although the wealthier women insisted on supporting her cause with monetary compensation, those who could not afford her treatment were treated nonetheless.
Although now satisfied with her lot in life, the stress she endured pursuing her cause has manifested itself physically: her complexion seems duller and lines have appeared on her face—a face that was once so resplendent and animated. Her hair has begun to gray in areas and it has lost its former luster. But the changes we see now, her loss of youthful beauty, do not force her to lose a moment's sleep. Now let us return to the examination being conducted in Vera Pavlovna's office:
"How long would you say you have been experiencing these ailments for?" inquired Vera Pavlovna.
The young lady shifted nervously on the examination table, "Five years? They have gotten progressively worse since then."
"And you say that it started with severe headaches, but has progressed to migraines that occur more than three times a week, constant weakness and fatigue, and nausea. Is that correct Natalya Ivanovna?"
"Yes," replied the young woman as she twirled a curl that had come lose from her bun.
Vera Pavlovna wrote down some notes and observed the young lady sitting on her examination table: her dress was draped over a chair in the corner but she remained in her underclothes. Vera Pavlovna cringed looking at the woman's corseted midsection, so tightly bound that it forced her to take quick, small breaths. She had discontinued to wear the style long ago, but still felt discomfort in the tightly fitting dresses of Western style that were in vogue.
"Natalya Ivanovna, I'm sorry, but at the moment I simply cannot find a cause for your physical distress. It's uncanny because so many other women have come to me with similar problems with no apparent cause. I'm going to consult my husband, however, and investigate the problem further. I will send for you soon."
Later that evening while sitting down to dinner with her husband and the Beaumonts, Vera Pavlovna discussed her observations from that day.
"These women describe the same ailments to me, but I can't seem to find a cause or a solution. Headaches, weakness and nausea. Although their health is good overall, it seems that these are constant aspects of their lives. What is most curious is the fact that it occurs mostly in the upper echelons of our society…"
Everyone at the table offered their opinion on the matter, but no one could surmise a definitive cause. Eventually the group moved on to a new topic. Following dinner the two couples congregated with other members of their circle in the Beaumonts' drawing room. Although there was singing, dancing and wild debate, Vera Pavlovna was withdrawn from the crowd all evening, plagued by questions she could not resolve.
Finally the guests departed and Vera Pavlovna settled into bed in her room. That night she had a dream. She dreamt that she was walking down Nevsky Prospect peering into all the shops. The window set ups were beautiful and adorned with all the new spring fashions. Toward the end of the block she approached a shop that had a rather dismal appearance on the outside. The windows and door were barred, yet there was movement inside and the shop appeared to be open. Vera Pavlovna approached the door and tugged on the handle. The hinges were rusty and the door was heavy, but she pulled with all her strength and entered the shop. The conditions were just as depressing inside as outside: paint was chipping off the gray walls, dirty torn curtains hung on the windows and a thick layer of dust coated each piece of furniture.
Vera Pavlovna heard voices coming from the adjacent room. She peered inside and saw a joyful scene. A young girl, no more than thirteen years old, stood in front of a cracked mirror. She excitedly gazed at her reflection. She was the quintessence of youthful beauty: her complexion was resplendent, her skin was white and creamy with a pearlescent shine, and her lustrous brown hair fell softly on her shoulders. The young girl's appearance sharply contrasted with the drab appearance of the shop's interior. Behind her a shop attendant was laboriously lacing up her corset.
"My Sonia is being fitted for her first ball gown," startled, Vera Pavlovna turned to face a middle-aged woman next to her. "She is going to shine at Count Tolstoy's ball next week. It will be her first time out in society." The woman looked on at the scene proudly.
Vera Pavlovna turned back to look at the girl and was surprised to see that the incandescence that radiated from her being had faded. With each tug the shop attendant made on the laces, the girl gasped. Vera Pavlovna knew the pain involved in lacing a corset and was surprised to see that the girl still appeared thoroughly overjoyed. Suddenly the color in the girl's complexion began to disappear. She began to slump over as if the life were being rapidly drained from her body. Vera Pavlovna looked on in horror. The shop attendant seemed unaware of the girl's deteriorating condition and continued to violently lace the corset. Meanwhile the girl's mother continued to look on proudly. The young girl fell to the floor and Vera Pavlovna ran over and tried to rip the shop attendant's hands from the corset laces.
"No, please stop! Can't you see you're killing her?"
Vera Pavlovna tried in vain to push the shop attendant away. The girl was splayed lifelessly on the floor. Her incandescent aura had disappeared. Her once beautiful hair had lost its sheen. And her creamy, soft complexion had turned a sickle bluish gray. Vera Pavlovna pulled at either side of the corset with all her strength, but to no avail: it was as if the girl was bound in steel. With violent sobs, and as if unaware of the futility of her efforts, Vera Pavlovna continued to attempt to rip the corset apart, screaming, "Stop! Stop! She's dying!"
With a start Vera Pavlovna woke from her nightmare. She sat in bed clutching at her chest and gasping for breath. Once she had oriented herself she decided to go to the shop first thing in the morning.
Vera Pavlovna awoke the next morning and hastily got ready to leave the apartment. She arrived at the shop on Nevsky Prospekt and waited in the office for Katerina Vasilievna. It turns out that she was occupied settling a dispute between two female workers. Since Vera Pavlovna opened her private practice, Katerina Vasilievna assumed full control over the business. She proved an excellent leader and within a short period of time four more shops had been established in Petersburg. There was even talk of opening one in Moscow. Unfortunately, however, conflicts between the girls, which never existed before, were becoming a regular aspect of the workday.
When Katerina Vasilievna arrived in the office, Vera Pavlovna immediately got down to business. She discussed her dream from the night before. She vividly described the scene in the dressmaking shop, the young girl's slow suffocation by the corset, Vera Pavlovna's inability to save her, and the indifference of her mother and the shopkeeper. Then she began to relate her dream of the Crystal Palace. She told Katerina about the women she saw in the fields whose dress resembled the flowing garments of the Greek goddesses.
"Now upon waking from my dream last night, it dawned on me: the corsets and dresses, ones which we furnish to women in the upper levels of society, directly affect their health in a negative way. Why, even when I wore corsets for a short period of time I noticed a change in my body. I don't know why I didn't see it before!"
"Vera Pavlovna, that is a most astute observation. What do you plan to do about it?"
"With our shops I believe we could revolutionize the styles that women are wearing. We'll do away with the binding dresses and corsets and model our creations after the loose-fitting garments worn by Grecian women."
All that morning and afternoon, Vera and Katerina worked tirelessly designing a dress that was not only comfortable, but did not deviate much from current styles. Gathering spare materials together in the work shop, they had the best seamstress put the dress together. And when Vera Pavlovna modeled the garment it was quite a sight. Loose-fitting and flowing the dress did not constrict the female form at all, yet its style was reminiscent of the dresses seen throughout high society.
The following day, Vera Pavlovna, remembering her former success, went to Julie's house with the dress. Kirsanov decided to accompany her on this visit. Julie was overjoyed to see her friend from long ago. After the initial pleasantries and greetings, they all sat down to tea. Vera modeled the dress for Julie and let her try it on. Julie was amazed at the comfort and mobility the garment afforded her. Once again, Vera Pavlovna enlisted her help: she requested that Julie wear the dress and recommend the new style to all her acquaintances in her level of society. Vera Pavlovna would contact her patients, apprise them of the cause of their physical ailments, and stress the beneficial qualities of the new style.
After their meeting, and just like their visits years ago, Vera Pavlovna and Julie began to run around the apartment, laughing and giggling like children. Alexander Kirsanov was at first taken aback by this behavior, but then he joined in the fun. They all had such a gay afternoon. Towards evening, tired out by all the activity, the three friends settled on a large divan next to one another. Vera Pavlovna began to read a book. But all three quickly fell asleep.
Julie fulfilled her promise to Vera and wore the dress out to every gala affair. As such a stately and beautiful figure, many women admired her appearance. Vera consulted her patients and beseeched them to at least wear the new dresses in the privacy of their homes. Each patient, although skeptical at first, excitedly reported back to Vera Pavlovna about her improved health. The dressmaking shops were soon flooded with orders for these Grecian inspired dresses. The corset and those tightly-fitted dresses of Western style became things of the past. Soon the women of high society began to resemble those beautiful maidens with flowing frocks, sprinkled on the lush fields surrounding the Crystal Palace.