I remember that the baroness was clad in a voluminous silk dress, pale grey in colour, and adorned with flounces and a crinoline and train. Also, she was short and inordinately fat, while her gross, flabby chin completely concealed her neck. Her face was purple, and the little eyes in it had an impudent, malicious expression. Yet she walked as though she was conferring a favour on everybody by doing so. As for the baron, he was tall, wizened and, like most Germans wry faced, and he was wearing spectacles. He would be about forty-five. And he had legs that seemed to begin almost at his chest – a sign of good breeding. Yet for all his air of peacock like conceit, his clothes were a little baggy, and he had a sheep-like look on his face which some might have taken for a look of profundity.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, “The Gambler”, 1866
A Bird's Eye View of Fashion, Food, Travel, Culture, Beverage and Curiosity 