Frivolousdressorder

“On the contrary,” Celia said, spinning. The ribbons flew out in a perfect golden ratio. “It demonstrates the irrationality of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. It is a dress of pure, unassailable logic.”

Then came the pièce de résistance . Celia arrived at the royal banquet wearing a dress that was a living mathematical proof of Pi. The bodice was a perfect circle. The skirt was an infinite, ruffled spiral of silk ribbons, each ribbon a different shade of blue, calculated to the thousandth decimal place. It rustled with the sound of 314 calculations per second. It was breathtaking, beautiful, and utterly, screamingly frivolous in spirit, if not in name. frivolousdressorder

The law was enforced by the Lord Chancellor of Modesty, a man named Bartholomew Pence whose own wardrobe consisted of a single, grey woolen tunic. He patrolled the cobblestone streets with a pair of iron shears, snipping any ruffle, bow, or unnecessary button he deemed "emotionally excessive." “On the contrary,” Celia said, spinning