My local transit hub is not known for being an urban fashion centre. In fact, it's mostly known for being drug dealers' central. It's a corner I avoid when I can, not because it makes me feel unsafe, but because seeing all that human depravity makes me feel sad and uncomfortable.
This young lady, with her adorable, prim outfit and ladylike posture, most decidedly did not fit in.
She looked almost like an old-fashioned little doll, so neat and clean-cut, like maybe she was on her way to church, or had just stepped out of Jane Austen novel, only pausing briefly to modernize her look but still maintaining her fundamental gentility.
Her outfit was a bit of a revelation to me. Of course we all know that black and white look well together, but her particular combination of black and white was unexpected and superb.
I wanted to ask if I could take her picture for Sublime Mercies, but there was no time. Her bus was about to arrive.
So I decided, rightly or wrongly, that it would be okay to take her photo as long as her face was not visible. So, dear reader, she'll always remain a mystery to us: the mystery of the girl who was a real doll.
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