On top of all this a warm, easily-fitting overcoat or
a mackintosh. If you were really dressing to kill (as a man) it
might take half an hour; if merely to go about your business and not
be specially remarked for foppishness, twenty minutes. To divest
yourself of all this and get into paijamas and so to bed: ten
minutes. But when Vivie returned to herself and went about the world
of 1909-1910, and merely wished to pass as an inconspicuous, modest
woman she had to spend _hours_ in dressing and undressing, and this
is what she had to wear and waste so much of her time in adjusting
and removing:--
Next the skin, merino combinations, unwieldy garments requiring a
contortionist's education to put on without entangling your front
and hind limbs. The "combies" were specially buttoned with an
infinitude of small, scarcely visible buttons, which always wanted
sewing on and replacing, and were peevish about remaining in the
button hole. Often, too, the "combies" (I really can't keep writing
the full name) had to be tied here and there with little white
ribbons which preferred getting into a knot (no wonder the average
woman has a temper!). When the "combies" went to the wash, all these
ribbonlets had to be taken out, specially washed, specially ironed,
and ingeniously threaded back into position.
Next to the combinations, proceeding outwards, came the corset, a
most serious affair.
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