I was reminded of this:
She jumps off the swing, lazily stretching her slender hands.
The dew is heavy on the thin flower branch, a light sweat seeps through her shirt.
Seeing a guest, she runs away in her socks, her golden hair pin slipping off.
She leaves in embarrassment, yet pauses at the door to look back, and sniffs the green plums.
by Li Qingzhao, Song Dynasty (960-1279)