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 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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