You lift up the doe mask. It’s not as fancy as the others but it has an unearthly shine, because, you realize as you pick it up, it’s inlayed with topaz of every shade, mosaicked out in the semblance of a female deer. The work behind it is extraordinary – you feel like if you put it on you might never take it off. Turning to the mirror, you raise it to your face. It covers you, forehead to chin, but it isn’t claustrophobic, and you tie the ties behind your head without thinking.
“Ooh, that one’s fine,” says one of the women, appreciating your choice, before heading towards the shoe-rack.
“I love this one’s dress, just hang on,” says the second, also disappearing.
“The dress is no good without these,” says the third, holding out garters and stockings. She pulls off your robe before you c
