Slutty victorian undergarments to wear by the lake while you wash out your period stains from your corsets or something. The baker's son peeks at you between the reeds before his horse farts loudly accompanied by a stream of liquid horse feces. You catch eyes with the handsome (human) stranger. You both blush. The horse farts again. you die of herpes at age 22. The end. 

DETAILS:
thin super soft linen fabric that washes well and won't shrink. Linen is not stuff or itchy

pajama worthy

slightly sheer

cotton lace trim on bloomers