She was Madame V., the curator, dressed in severe black: a tailored blazer, a high-necked blouse, and trousers that flowed like oil. She carried a leather-bound portfolio and a small, silver-headed mallet. Behind her, two assistants in white cotton gloves stood motionless by the door.
“You may dress, Monsieur Gay,” she said at last. “The artist will be pleased. You have understood the assignment. You are not a man undressed. You are a man revealed .” CMNM Monsieur Francois Gay
She did not remove them herself. That was not the protocol. The subject must volunteer his own unmaking. She was Madame V