bree stood before us in a vintage , as in eighties , pepto-bismol pink taffeta gown , the sleeves ballooning into giant puffs that sat unevenly on her shoulder blades , the sweetheart neckline , dipping crassly into her cleavage , the skirt swallowed her body in folds of wrinkled fabric and the apron of lace both seemed to domesticate the outfit and tie the whole awful look together .