The dress was champagne and ivory, the color less traditional than stark white. The nearly form-fitting gown had a silky slim skirt that dropped dramatically to the floor with Belgium lace swirling around the hem.

“Back then, the style was full skirts, and lots of lace. Neither suited either my personality or my figure, and so Ruth adorned the hem and bust with the finest Belgium lace, but left the rest plain. The bust is beaded over the lace. Few designers were doing beads then, but Ruth had always incorporated beads into her drawings. Of course the strapless bust was totally risqué. Some designers were doing it, but they covered the shoulders with a small jacket or lace so the bride would be decent in church.”

Isabeau laughed. “Mary, you were a rebel.”

“No one back then paid much attention to Ruth’s designs. They told her she would never amount to anything. Only men could have their own businesses. Women were supposed to stay home and mind the children. It made me angry. So I asked her to come up with the design, and our friends helped to find the right materials. We had to send away for everything, and it was so expensive. Now the money would be laughable, but then, it was a pretty penny and with the way we lived, difficult to find.”

“Were you a sensation in it?”

Mary grinned at her. “Doc couldn’t take his eyes off of me. The ruche satin made my waist incredibly small. I thought I looked like a princess.”

“Who wouldn’t in such a beautiful dress?”

“Turn it around. I love the buttons.”

Isabeau carefully turned the dress around to expose the back. Tiny satin buttons adorned the back all the way down to the bottom of the small train.

“At first Ruthie was only going to put them to the waist but she wanted to accent the line of the dress, so in the end, she attached them all the way to the hem. Just so you know, sitting isn’t all that comfortable. You have to position the dress just right, but it’s so beautiful, who cares?”

“It is beautiful.” Isabeau had to blink back tears. “What if it doesn’t fit me?”

“It will fit. And I can take it in or let it out if I have to, but I think you’re very close to what my size was back then. And Ruthie is on her way over to help, so if I can’t do it, believe me she can.”

Isabeau frowned, a thought occurring to her. “You aren’t talking about Ruth Ann Gobel, the famous designer, are you?”

Mary laughed. “That would be Ruthie. She’ll love that you recognized her name. Her dresses—now considered vintage—have grown popular over the last few years. She barely made a living in her day.”