“Fashion is all about eventually becoming naked”

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

[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]

Comments

Luxury must be comfortable, otherwise it is not luxury.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

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.”

[danashee.livejournal.com]

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.