To try and imagine the faces of these people reveals more questions than answers. 

As I have been noodling on the permutations of age, mood, time, space and the suggestion of all kinds of personal and public sentiment, it has become evident that there were, very likely, some unexpressed issues around gender.

The clothing—all those uniforms—supports this. 

The uniform neutralizes. It is a coat of armor, a method of harmonizing and homogenizing, but also of restricting and restraining.

Fidelity to the custom(s) of dress privileges historical accuracy over more essential human truths. If a uniform can be seen as a form of censure, then identity can be effaced.

It was only in eliminating the details of the fabric that this beautiful person came forward. 

I never knew what normal was, one maid confessed. 

The shirt is intentionally unfinished. 

As is this entire story.