She wore around her neck - a quarter anna. "Remove the shackles that try to bind you", said the onlooker. Shackles like such don't bind you, they remind you of who you are - she thought to herself, smiling, recalling glorious memories. Something old and new, forgotten and blue, from relentless to resentless - she had come a long way.

Fall is the season of nostolgia, and we are its fondest prey. 'One quarter anna' takes us on a rewind journey to our Jane Austen journals and tales of freedom recited with utmost diligence. We commemorate our pinafores and chemises, in deep saturated autumn hues, with peekaboos of inked calligraphy, hints of hidden lace, and surprises of that plaid fabric which was cut out to make new frocks.