opera suite

She dressed for herself — and sometimes, to disappear. 

Lucienne didn’t need velvet or spotlight. This room was enough. In its quiet, she opened the tall armoire like a stage door, revealing gowns, gloves, heels, and silk slips — fragments of the women she had been, or might become. She’d try them on alone, just for fun. Or for memory. Or for rehearsal.

Sometimes, she stayed in costume for hours — not to be seen, but to feel something shift. This wasn’t a room for drama. It was for transformation. The Opera Room held her wardrobe, but more than that — it held her secrets.