Lacy- yes, it was definitely lacy. And ruffly. Something she would've pegged more as a wedding dress than an 'afternoon frock'- or whatever Google said it was. Claire looked back down at herself in the nearby mirror, adjusting the sash at the empire waist above her stomach, and tying it in a bow behind her back.
But she couldn't help but snort at his comment. Her eyes met his in the reflection of the mirror, reflecting a small smile that matched his own. Her tone was dry. "If you mean those ruffly MC Hammer pants, then hell no." Satisfied with where the dress hung on her frame, she started on her hair, tossing it back with both hands to twist into a soft, romantic bun.