The little skirt she's wearing is really an apron. I know approximately how old it is too. One of my earliest memories is from a time when I had the apron on. I was trying to fill the pockets. When I did that, they became heavy and uncomfortable.
My mother made the apron, and later she made the doll.
She didn't get to see the published copy of my book but together we dreamed of it. I can imagine her seeing this photo and smiling.