estdeus_innobis | “Fashion is all about eventually becoming naked”

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“Fashion is all about eventually becoming naked”

[Wednesday, February 3rd (Day 248)]
[Mid-day, the Sacred Whore]

I believe I've gotten out of the habit of working for a living. Not that it's ever been an real necessity, of course, but there was at least some joy to be found in the simpler things - organizing the shop, doing a few custom orders, trying to force the barest semblance of style onto ill-educated farmers and their homely wives. Now? Well, seeing as my customers have been elevated in my mind to something barely above pigs in rags...

Maybe I need a vacation.

True, I haven't actually been at the shop in a good while, but a break from work isn't what I mean. A real and proper vacation, not just a few lazy days spent shacked up at the carnival. As much as I may like to think whiskey and a good roll in a hay can solve all my problems, a nice break from Excolo is probably what I actually need. Get away, forget for a while, and

And the look on Glass's face at that, well, it's enough to keep my suitcase under the bed for the time being. As it is, I'll be lucky if she's not through the door with her hands around my throat any minute now. Probably what I deserve but if that's the way the world worked, I think my life would have gone a little different, yes?

Damien is off running errands with Winnie come down with a nasty cold and so I'm left in the shop by myself, perched on the counter with a book and a glass of wine, trying my best not to think on anything at all. Especially not the idea of little Winifred curled up in my bed where I left her. Couldn't have the silly girl tending a cold in the pantry, even if she's still intent on pretending she doesn't sleep there. No matter, she's sick. No point in even dwelling on it. Daydreaming, now that was perfectly acceptable.

[Open to Jarmyn and anyone else needing to look fabulous]

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I do not like shopping. I have never had much cause to do it, since shopping does, as a general rule, tend to require money in the pockets that can afford to be spent and not just clinked for good show. With a steady, legal job now, though, I can see my way clear to laying out money for a few things I’ve been needing that really shouldn’t be put off much longer. I slept through the coldest part of the morning, but it’s still chilly enough to make me turn my collar up and shove my hands in my pockets once I’m out in the street.

It’s not far to where I’m headed, but the walk makes clear the fact that I am badly in need of a new pair of boots. These weren’t new when I got them, and that was several towns ago. Now no amount of blacking will cover the scuffs, and the soles are wearing thin. Could do with a new coat, too. This one was made for a man with shorter arms and broader shoulders who lived in a much warmer place a long time ago. Mending it makes the quilting go lumpy, too. Time it was put to rest.

This shop looks like the kind where they charge you for breathing the air inside and nothing has prices on it, but I want quality, and you have to pay for that. Excolo is a new place, and I want to make a good impression here. Never know what kind of opportunities might turn up.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and step inside. The only person in sight is a gentleman leaning on the counter, a book in one hand and a glass in the other. He must be the owner because the way he’s perched says this is his place, but anywhere else I’d have pegged him for the kind who’d never worked a day in his life, with a valet and more coats in his closet than there are days of the week. I’d put his age at near mine, but for the way he holds himself and the look in his eyes.

I clear my throat, even though the bell on the door has announced my presence and gotten his attention. “I’m in the market for a pair of boots,” I tell him. “And a coat, maybe.”

I look up from my book as the bell over the door chimes, a little annoyed at being bothered honestly. Yes, yes, this is a shop. But that doesn't mean its patrons should be allowed to interrupt. Right when I was just getting to the good part, too. “I’m in the market for a pair of boots. And a coat, maybe.”

And a haircut... Please say a haircut... No? Really?

A sigh, no matter that I'm smiling now, and I hop down from the counter just in time for the bell to ring again. Hardly any customers all day and now they all decide to come in at once. Of course. "Why hello and hello there," I drawl out, looking between the two of them. I suppose the book can wait for now. There may be work to do, pity that, but I can at least amuse myself while forced to provide actual customer service. And the two of them... It's like being at a buffet and trying to decide where to start. The Chinese or the Italian, the leggy redhead or the scruffy rogue with the bad hair.

"So who's first?" My smile widens a bit. "Not that I've never had two customers at once, but the dressing rooms are only so large."

One day of cold and bright is enough. I require something more substantial than glamour. My explorations of the previous day revealed to me a place where I might find something like what I require.

Before leaving the inn, I use glamour to alter my dress from the worn dark green velvet court dress to a lighter spring green one in the style I have seen on many of the young women in the village. I will need warm clothes. Something I can move in, I think, as I push open the door of the shop. A bell above the door chimes merrily as it enter.

There are two men inside, one who is merely handsome, and one who is beautiful. I think wistfully of the Summerlands, they would make a much better setting for his clean chiseled beauty than this musty wooden room. I smile as I walk over to join the conversation.

The shopkeeper—no, the gentleman—is smiling and welcoming, but he looks me over as though I need fixing. I square my shoulders and meet his eyes. I’m here to trade, and I can pay. That’s all that he needs to concern himself with.

The bell chimes as someone else comes in, and I turn to look behind me out of habit, even though no one here would have cause to do me harm. I can tell she is a lady even though her dress is simple. Her face shines, but she looks a little cold. Well, I was right about this shop. Its customers are even finer than its wares. I feel even more out of place than I did when I first came in. I have just become the plainest person in the room. I don’t imagine I’ll have to trade on my looks here, though, so it doesn’t really matter.

“After you, ma’am, please.” There is only one gentleman in the room, but that’s no reason for me not to act like one. “I don’t really need a dressing room for the things I’m buying, anyway.”

The beautiful one smiles as he greets us. It seems he's the one in charge of this place. So who's first? Not that I've never had two customers at once, but the dressing rooms are only so large.

The other one gives me precedence which is only right, claiming he doesn't need a dressing room for his purchases. I take a step towards the proprietor, I have not had a chance to look over the things put out on display but I have seen several examples of outerwear since I arrived. "I require a coat, it will come down to my feet and be thick enough to protect against any amount of bad weather. I will also require a pair of riding boots."

I pause as I try to think of how to describe the outfit I want.

Oh, well at least this'll be entertaining. I give the young man a quick nod of my head, motioning to the racks of clothing. "And they say chivalry's dead. Feel free to look around while you wait. I don't stock boots, those will have to be ordered, but all the winter coats are out." Another look over - heaven help me - and I have to go on. "The men's shirts are by the dressing rooms. Do help yourself..." True, a new top will only help so much, at least until I can get a pair of scissors near that hair, but we must start small.

"Now, my dear," I start, turning towards the woman. "A coat for you as well, didn't you say?" Ordered is more the term but, as I find it mostly endearing, I just smile and continue. "Ankle-length, maybe something in wool... Oh, I have just the thing. Come along." Without waiting for a response I take her hand and lead her over to the women's coats. There are only a few things out for display, as most people don't tend to replace their outerwear every year, but what I have in mind is right there where I thought it'd be. It's not as simple a style as some of the others, which is good as I wouldn't dream of putting her in some bland gray smock. Far too pretty for that. "Here we are..." I pull down the coat (http://www.fanplusfriend.com/catalog/CT00015_01.jpg) and hold it open for her to try on. "It's a little large for you, but that's nothing I can't fix before you leave."

Most people work because they have to, myself included. There are only two kinds of people who work because they want to. Some of them choose the work they do or come to love it, and they will do their best at every part of it for pure joy. The rest of them are provided for by other means and work at something because it amuses them or makes them feel handy. I think the gentleman who owns this shop is that kind of person, because of the way he looks me over and takes the woman behind me in hand. But he is dressed to perfection himself, so perhaps he does love his work.

I unbutton my coat and shrug it off as I step over to the racks he indicated. I don’t believe a working man needs more than a white shirt and a black one, and maybe one of some other color, if they’re kept clean and mended. The new shirts on the racks feel smooth between my fingers, the lawn and linen crisp as I have rarely felt them before. Perhaps for work…

I look over to the coats which I came in for and decide to trust the gentleman’s judgment on them, since I’m sure I’ll be paying for it. I don’t even want to think about the boots. Bespoke footwear is expensive; I have no clear idea how much. It’s just as well he’s busy with the lady and cannot tell me.

I wait while the proprietor directs the other man to the items he's after and then turns back to give me his attention. A coat for you as well, didn't you say? I incline my head as he checks my list of requirements and then he takes my hand which is perhaps a bit familiar of him but for someone of his beauty I'm willing to forgive, and leads over to where he keeps a number of coats in various styles and sizes. Oh, I have just the thing. Come along. He pulls down a long tiered coat in black and holds it open for me. Here we are...It's a little large for you, but that's nothing I can't fix before you leave.

I consider the garment for a moment. It appears to fulfill my stated requirements and I like the slim cut of it as well. Much nicer looking than the cloak I crafted from glamour. I slip into it and the weight settles satisfyingly on my shoulders. I should not be disappointed that it doesn't automatically adjust to a perfect fit; this is the Iron World, not the summerlands, and their magic works differently. I look over my shoulder at the proprietor.

"Yes, I think this will do nicely."

"Oh, very nicely," I say, a wonderful sort of all-inclusive statement that could mean the woman or the coast. Probably both. It's loose through the middle, wide at the shoulders, just as I thought, but it'll be easy enough to remedy. I open my mouth to call for Winnie only to realize, just as I'm turning towards the back, that she's not there. No, obviously not - she's curled up in bed, or damn well should be because that's where I left her. Hmph. It does throw a proverbial wrench in the works though, doesn't it?

"Well, if you want something done right," I mutter to myself before quickly buttoning the coat around her form and pulling a few pins from the tape measure around my neck. "Now hold still, luv. I'll have this done in a-" A laugh as I work, quick fingers over expensive fabric and it's akin to breathing at this point. Simple alterations at that. "Flash. There. All done." I take the coat back and toss it over a shoulder. "I'll just have to run in back and fix this, if you'd like to wait?"

I'm already moving towards the back of the shop where I keep my machine. This would be so much easier with Winnie up and about, though I can't complain too much. I think it might be just as much laziness on my part, that one wish. On the way through I stop to check in where the young man from before is browsing shirts. "That's a great shirt, material's surprisingly durable as well." A smirk. "But I'd go with the dark blue. Too much brown and gray, it's bad for the soul."

Then I'm off to the back, hoping the two of them can handle themselves long enough for me to finish the alterations. It's a pointless sort of fretting, as the worst they can do is empty the till or get into a brawl with one another. On the one hand I'm out a few hundred, on the other I get a good show - I've bet against worst odds than that.

Christ. Can this man just say anything? Does every word need a flourish or a smirk or an innuendo to go with it? I would put him down as merely conceited if he were not so masterful. I take the dark blue shirt off the rack and hold it up to look at it. It does seem well-made. The one I’m wearing started life black, but it’s been washed and worn often since then, and now you could call it gray if you wanted to be kind. I could care less about its effect on my soul, but its effect on my reflection in the shop mirror is less than appealing.

I do not have the means to replace my entire wardrobe, damn it, but everything looks shabby when compared to the clothes here. I can’t wipe out my savings just for the sake of my appearance. The future looks good here, but I can’t foresee everything that might happen. Money means choices, options. But maybe this gentleman and I can come to some sort of arrangement. Maybe.

I turn to the lady beside me with a rueful smile, still holding the shirt. “He’s good at his business, isn’t he?” It’s more to make conversation than to get an answer, really. “What do you think of the color?” It’s always good to get a lady’s opinion. She at least has no interest in selling me more than I came in for.

The proprietor mutters something under his breath and then with no other warning Than that he's buttoning me into the coat and pulling little pins from the thing around his neck. Now hold still, luv. I'll have this done in a-Flash. There. All done. I stiffen as I feel the iron in the pins but he really is done very quickly. So the coat with the prickly presence of those pins is removed from my person before it can become an issue. HE says that he'll return quickly and asks me to wait. I incline my head as he makes his swift way towards the back of the shop, pausing only to direct a comment at the other customer.

Who then turns to me holding up a shirt in pleasant deep blue that reminds me somewhat of the twilight. He’s good at his business, isn’t he? He says conversationally with a bit of a smile. Then he asks more directly, What do you think of the color?

I turn to face him and get a better look at him now that the more beautiful man is no distracting me. He is handsome in a shaggy unkempt fashion that his current attire does not help. The shirt he is holding can only help so much with that. But it IS a nice colour. "I like it." I tell him.

The back room is an absolute mess and I have to stop, actually shake my head, before I can get down to straightening it enough to work. Really Winnie, this being sick business is getting rather old. It's rude, letting someone come to rely on you and then falling ill. Just plain rude.

Once the room is situated, I settle in to do the actual alterations. In a day full of unexpected set-backs that at least goes as planned, a few quick runs on the machine, minimal amount of hand-stitching before it's done.

"Done!" I announce as I move back into the shop proper, coat over one shoulder and slight grin on my face. "I know, I know... Amazing. Miraculous even. I shock even myself at times." Back over to the woman and I hold the coat open again for her to slip into. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

She likes it. I was hoping that maybe she’d look down her nose at it, and I’d be able to put it away feeling a little better. She has a nose made for looking down with. Face for it, too, beautiful like glass and gold. Probably rich as well, the way she throws orders around. I like the shirt too, but I put it back on the rack firmly. I might come back for it another day if I can pick up some extra shifts or maybe have a run of good tips. A long run of very good tips.

I move over to the winter coats, close to where she is standing. The men’s coats are simpler and longer, easy to find. I wouldn’t say no to something double-breasted and woolen, in black or gray. But those colors might be hard on my bilious spleen or something, God forbid.

The gentleman is back all of a sudden, grinning like a cat and singing his own praises as he holds out the coat to her. And, oh God, does he do this to everyone? Is he going to do it to me? I do not mind gentlemen paying attention to me, flirting even. But being taken in hand and condescended to are different matters entirely.

The handsome one looks a bit disappointed by my answer to his question and puts the twilight shirt back on the rack. Did he not like the colour? He moves over to the coats, looking at some nice ones in black and gray.

The proprietor returns with my coat. He is in good spirits cheerfully praising his own work. We shall see if it is acceptable. He holds it open as before. Let's try this again, shall we?

I slide into the coat and yes it does fit much better. I felx my shoulders a little to check that it will not bind, but no, he has only taken up the excess. I smile. "This will do."

"Marvelous," I say once the coat is on again. The fact that she likes it is only a small bonus - beauty is beauty whether the wretches of the world care to see it or not. "We'll get you rang up in a moment. Feel free to look about the store, though. With that figure, I can't imagine anything in here that wouldn't look smashing." A smile and I'm back to the young man, what I'll call the more difficult of the two cases. A project, even.

"And how are we doing over here?" I look at the coats he's browsing and my smile turns down a bit. "Oh, well, yes those are quite practical, aren't they?" I rummage through the racks for a bit to find something more attractive. "There's absolutely no fun in practical, my friend." A small bit of searching and I find what I'm after, a dark blue military sort of jacket, thick enough to keep you warm during Excolo's idea of winter and fashionable enough to perhaps save the boy from a life of mockery and lonely nights. "Here we are. Care to try it on?"

Yes, he is going to do this, I can tell from his tone and the look on his face like bits of me need fixing. I sigh through my nose as he comes up behind me. Not even the coats I’m looking at in his own establishment meet his approval. I’m not even going to say anything back to his comment about practicality. Man like him hasn’t had to think about practicality in a long time, if ever at all. Telling him to walk a mile wouldn’t go over very well, either.

Well, if this man came into my bar, I’d expect him to take my recommendations on drinks. I’m in his shop, I’ll take his recommendations on clothes. Man wants to put me in dark blue, I’ll wear dark blue. It’s just as good as any other color. I slide my arms into the coat he holds out for me and pull it around myself. It feels warm, and I like the buttons and the things on the shoulders like a uniform.

“This is good.” I turn around, because he probably wants to see the front and fuss over it. “Does it need to be pinned or sewn up?” At some point we need to talk about money, but I’ll let him get what he wants to say about the clothes out first.

We'll get you rang up in a moment. Feel free to look about the store, though. With that figure, I can't imagine anything in here that wouldn't look smashing. The proprietor says with another of his smiles. I incline my head and start looking around as he moves on to dealing with the other customer.

I riffle through the racks of pants looking for something to travel in. I'm not sure I like the material that most of them are made of. I frown and head over to a rack of nice simple flowy dresses. I like these better.

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