I’m a little afraid of this dress.
It makes me think of the Headless Horseman. Like, her torso is a spindly wood after dark, and someone is going to ride through it with his decapitated head on a saddle just to freak out some weary travelers with the mess and pernicious smell. And, relatedly, the dress also makes me think of creeping rot. All of these are words a lady dreams of having written underneath her picture someday.
Alice’s dress is less elaborate: