on pretty things and being not quite there

…the Lady of the Big Hutch (an ex-strumpet from the Salpetriere who walked not with her legs but with her whole body), having taken an interest in her, entrusted her with her secret lingerie. Dresses made of cotton clouds, blouses made of wonders, lace mantillas which seemed like steam. The Lady had a childish laugh. The naivete in her eyes protected her from this horrible plantation. She floated in an unreal innocence contracted during a trip to the islands when her schooner was shipwrecked, despite the fact that the wreck had caused more fright than harm. Since then she moved like the clouds and filled the world with perfume and flowers.

- Patrick Chamoiseau, pg. 39, Texaco, trans. Rejouis & Vinokurov