Here you've got the Naked Bride all right...stunning model...Rassamee.
On one side the white wedding dress slash straight Jacket on the riot of foliage on her other leg that seems, judging from the blossom and leaves on the floor underneath, to be dying as she nears her wedding day. As the change is coming she is looking back on her old life that is dying and not forward to the wedding dress she ignores.
Or, as I always remind my Grandchildren when I tell them something, "I could be full of shit."
My hope is when they grow up every time somebody is telling them something they'll hear my ghost whispering in the background: