Alice Munros Best

the skirt shorter than what she was used to, but then what she was used to was not the style. There was no problem with the suit. Theproblem was with what stuck out of it. Her neck and her face and her hair and her big hands and thick legs.
    “How are you getting on? Mind if I take a peek?”
    Peek all you want to, Johanna thought, it’s a case of a sow’s ear, as you’ll soon see.
    The woman tried looking from one side, then the other.
    “Of course, you’ll need your nylons on and your heels. How does it feel? Comfortable?”
    “The suit feels fine,” Johanna said. “There’s nothing the matter with the suit.”
    The woman’s face changed in the mirror. She stopped smiling. She looked disappointed and tired, but kinder.
    “Sometimes that’s just the way it is. You never really know until you try something on. The thing is,” she said, with a new, more moderate conviction growing in her voice, “the thing is you have a fine figure, but it’s a strong figure. You have large bones and what’s the matter with that? Dinky little velvet-covered buttons are not for you. Don’t bother with it anymore. Just take it off.”
    Then when Johanna had got down to her underwear there was a tap and a hand through the curtain.
    “Just slip this on, for the heck of it.”
    A brown wool dress, lined, with a full skirt gracefully gathered, three-quarter sleeves and a plain round neckline. About as plain as you could get, except for a narrow gold belt. Not as expensive as the suit, but still the price seemed like a lot, when you considered all there was to it.
    At least the skirt was a more decent length and the fabric made a noble swirl around her legs. She steeled herself and looked in the glass.
    This time she didn’t look as if she’d been stuck into the garment for a joke.
    The woman came and stood beside her, and laughed, but with relief.
    “It’s the color of your eyes. You don’t need to wear velvet. You’ve got velvet eyes.”
    That was the kind of soft-soaping Johanna would have felt bound to scoff at, except that at the moment it seemed to be true. Her eyes were not large, and if asked to describe their color she would have said, “Iguess they’re a kind of a brown.” But now they looked to be a really deep brown, soft and shining.
    It wasn’t that she had suddenly started thinking she was pretty or anything. Just that her eyes were a nice color, if they had been a piece of cloth.
    “Now, I bet you don’t wear dress shoes very often,” the woman said. “But if you had nylons on and just a minimum kind of pump – And I bet you don’t wear jewelry, and you’re quite right, you don’t need to, with that belt.”
    To cut off the sales spiel Johanna said, “Well, I better take it off so you can wrap it up.” She was sorry to lose the soft weight of the skirt and the discreet ribbon of gold around her waist. She had never in her life had this silly feeling of being enhanced by what she had put on herself.
    “I just hope it’s for a special occasion,” the woman called out as Johanna was hastening into her now dingy-looking regular clothes.
    “It’ll likely be what I get married in,” said Johanna.
    She was surprised at that coming out of her mouth. It wasn’t a major error – the woman didn’t know who she was and would probably not be talking to anybody who did know. Still, she had meant to keep absolutely quiet. She must have felt she owed this person something – that they’d been through the disaster of the green suit and the discovery of the brown dress together and that was a bond. Which was nonsense. The woman was in the business of selling clothes, and she’d just succeeded in doing that.
    “Oh!” the woman cried out. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”
    Well, it might be, Johanna thought, and then again it might not. She might be marrying anybody. Some miserable farmer who wanted a workhorse around the place, or some wheezy old half-cripple looking for a nurse. This woman had no idea what kind of man she had lined up, and it wasn’t any of her business anyway.
    “I can tell it’s a love match,” the woman said, just as if she had read these disgruntled thoughts. “That’s why your eyes were shining in the mirror. I’ve wrapped it all in tissue paper, all you have to do is take it out and hang it up and the material will fall out beautifully. Just give it a light press if you want, but you probably won’t even need to do that.”
    Then there was the business of handing