Although the only surviving grown-up photo of the lovely Dickinson features her in drab black Victorian garb, the Emily of our collective literary imagination floats ethereal-like through her garden in pure white. Along with her obsession with death and flowers, the disembodied "I" of Dickinson's poetry shares Dickinson's chaste, Greco-Roman-esque wardrobe. Feel like a reclusive, enlightened poet in white lace and holy silence. Color and speech are for weak plebs malcontent with their own internal dialogue. You're above that.
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