ArchivedLogs:What's Your Style?

What's Your Style?
Dramatis Personae Allison, Marinov, Paige
In Absentia	2017-08-20 "TMI? Come on, Paige! It's twenty-seventeen! Sometimes people are naked!"
Location <NYC> Garment District
The Garment District is named quite rightly. In the square mile of the Garment District, some of the world's best fashion designers, clothing manufacturers, and models are packed into the office and retail buildings of the District. The streets are busy, and the clothing of the passers-going always, always fashionable. It's early afternoon and the day is warming up a bit, with most pedestrians wearing short sleeves or breezy outfits. One youth in the crowd, however, has on a permanent fur coat. Marinov's fur pattern has recently been changed, with most of their fur having been changed to a silvery-gray and their spots and stripes having been turned to bright multicolour. The youth is presently wearing a pair of dark coloured pre-torn jeans, crafted in such a way to allow their tail through, a low cut black top that exposes the furry tuft of their upper chest and an olive coloured jacket. "I usually come here to, like, see what I like in the window," they are explaining idly to their companion, "Most of my stuff's gotta be custom made, but like, for you there's gonna be all kinds've cool stores around here." Today, Allison is wearing a short cropped shirt that cuts off just below her chest in a light baby blue color, and a pair of destroyed skinny flex jeans. A white wind breaker is tied about her waist loosely with a chain peeking out from it that attaches her wallet to her jeans. She has got a few stares and call outs from a couple of passerbys, as well as some photos taken of her. At some point, she signed a couple of autographs for some squealing fan girls. "Well, today we're buying instead of peeking!" She says with a grin, bumping her shoulder against Mari's. "If you see anything you like, let me know. My treat. I am so hoping to find some wide flares. Maybe some new school bell bottoms. Did I tell you I like the new spots? They're super cute." "Most things don't go over my horns very happily," Paige agrees with the felinoid teenager. She sticks close to the other two and currently sports a gray summer dress. "Buying would be nice," she concedes. "But really only some things really feel okay on my fur, you know? It's really just easier for me to just get things at work sometimes." The goat girl shrugs as she draws her eyes over various window displays. "And the new fur pattern is great." This comment comes with a smile as her attention focuses on Marinov. "I should talk to Tag sometime." "Spacibo, the artist who does my fur is incredible," says Marinov, looking at the back of their hand a moment to admire all the detail work, "Like honestly, incredible. You definitely should talk to him, Paige, get something done up. How's your thrifting anyways?" They nod once firmly to Allison and remark, eyes turning towards the glass of the windows, "I'll let you know if I see anything I want, though like, I got weird proportions so usually at places like these I just get accessories and stuff." "Know what'd be so clutch? Getting your fur dyed in that space-glo colors so that it really neon glows in a club or something. That'd be so sick." Allison pops her head into a store to look around, then pops it back out to continue heading down the street. "You could get beanies." She says to Paige. "Some of them are reversible with different colors. I think you could rock an awesome beanie with your hair also." Upon stying a more vintage thrift store, she grins widely. "I think we can find some gems in there. Thoughts?" She asks as she aims for the door. Reaching a hand up to gently touch against a horn, Paige sighs. "They won't fit my horns. Just like no shoes will fit my feet ... er, hooves." As she says this second part, however, her eyes glace towards Marinov, a thought perhaps stirring in her mind. She bites her the inside of her lip when Allison suggests the thrift store. "Sure, why not? Just please don't try to buy anything for me, okay?" Another sigh. "I ... you know ... rely on enough people for free or low-cost services already and it makes me uncomfortable enough as it is." To Marinov: "I wouldn't know what to do with my fur." "You don't know what to do with your fur? Just follow my trends, I guess. You could get ocelot spots, though, but like... I dunno how that'd look on you, but right now I'm not using that look," suggests Marinov helpfully. They spin on their heel and nod towards the vintage thrift shop, deciding, "Yeah, let's get a taste of some old school cool. And Paige, Allison's right, I'd guess a sorta beanie thing could be made to work for you, just a little custom work. I dunno about footwear, though, like... I go barefoot a lot cause of my weird tough feet." They gesture forwards and start into the shop. "You can cut some slits in the beanie and pull it over your horns so that it sits against the back of your head and still keeps you warm. New York has rough winters." Allison says as she gives a wave to the cashier with a hand as she saunters for the jeans aisle. If they get any weird looks, she doesn't appear to notice. "How about custom sandals for you .. ah .. paws?" She asks Mari. She plucks out a couple of jeans in her size from the racks, looking them over. "Does it get super uncomfortable for you guys in the summer? Like, really hot and sweaty?" Paige's gaze flits to Marinov before she answers Allison. "For me? Kind of? I don't -- I don't sweat. At all. It's like ... a goat-thing. I don't really get it. But, like, both our body temperatures are higher than average humans. I'm usually sitting around one-hundred two degrees Fahrenheit," she admits, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of her neck. "And, yeah, I guess slits could work. I can't really wear the ushanka hat Marinov made me in the summer." "It's hot but, like, I like it hot? And, like Paige, I don't sweat. Except through my hands and feet, I guess, which is weird," says Marinov, shrugging a shoulder lightly. While they take a look at the clothes, they seem more interested in belts and other accessories for the time being, pausing to pick up something a bit bulky with lots of metal on it appraisingly. "If you want a beanie, I can custom that up for you." They add to Allison, "I have a few custom sandals and shoes and even boots sometimes, but that's expensive 'cause I'm no cobbler." "Wonder if there is a mutant out there who's powers is they can just make shoes." Allison chuckles as she throws some jeans over her shoulder, then goes about looking at a hot pink pair of jeans with patches of flowers along them. "Paige, what's your style by the way?" She picks out a Ramones shirt and holds it up, then adds it to the pile. "My style is generally whatever that fits and doesn't make me stand out. I mean ... I just generally wear whatever?" Paige looks mildly uncomfortable as she searches for an answer. "Like, I don't have much money, so working at the thrift store on the Lower East Side is like a dream come true, you know? I just wear what I can afford. I /would/ be interested in hoof shoes, though. Maybe. I don't know. I've never had shoes that go over my hooves so they might just be awful, but I've never tried them. Mostly 'cause they don't exist." "I dunno if there's a mutant who just makes shoes, but that'd be one of those real marketable powers," says Marinov thoughtfully, "Like you know, some mutants have powers that like, you could really use in business and stuff. Like Blink! She's got one of those mutant jobs!" They peer at the pile that Allison is forming and remark, "Whoa, those jeans are so pink! I've never had denim that pink to work with!" "Yeah? They got a few more pairs, snag one in your size. We can work with it." Allison says to Mari with a giggle. "And Paige, everyone has a style. You should just let it out, even if you gotta customize the crap out of it. Everyone should feel good in their own skin or fur when they wear clothes. Personally, I'd rather just lay around the house naked and watch Netflix, but if I gotta put clothes on, I may as well rock the hell out of them." "Uuuhhh...TMI?" Paige offers with furrowed brows and a bemused expression as she looks at Allison before shrugging. "And I just wear clothes. I buy what's afforable and not destroyed, right? I don't have anything to let out. I - I really don't know what we're even talking about it." The horned mutant's uncomfortabeness seems to be gradually increasing. She shrugs sharply. "I don't know. I like dresses?" "TMI? Come on, Paige! It's twenty-seventeen! Sometimes people are naked!" says Marinov, feigning outrage and raising their hands above their head. "Can't lounge around naked when you live in a boarding school, though," adds Marinov solemnly. They look towards Paige and then say, trying to take a more soothing tone, "You don't gotta know exactly what you like, no worries, okay? Just like, if you see something you think is cute, point it out." They pick up one of the pairs of similarly coloured jeans to examine. "I know, right? Last I remember, we don't shower in a bathing suit." Allison giggles with a wink to Marinov. "All I'm saying, is that you shouldn't be afraid to express yourself. It's what most of my music is all about. Self-love and being true to who you are. Just because we're mutants, don't mean we can't be hot either, or at least put on clothes that makes us feel good about ourselves. I think wearing awesome clothes at least makes me feel good, especially when I'm having a shit day, which seems to be every day now." She plucks another shirt off a rack. "I so love waking up every day to a few hundred death threats on my Twitter account and people posting my address with pictures of my head on a target. But, that won't stop me from rocking these sexy jeans." The horned mutant rolls her eyes with a slight blush beneath her fur before saying, "Finding dresses is hard. I can't wear ones that show too much because I don't want people seeing up anything. And I can't really, you know, wear leggings due to the fur. And don't even /talk/ about shaving them. I'm /not/ interested in paying hundreds of dollars in razors a month. Besides, I like it." Tension has eased out of her shoulders and she appears to have relaxed a bit as she shifts over to look at the pink jeans. Tracing her hand over a pair, she says, "I don't know if these would really go with my fur." Her ears flick up and then back down. "Although ... I could /change/ my fur. Hmmm..." "Whoa, I would never suggest you shave your fur," says Marinov, holding up their hands palm forward, "That sounds like a legitimate nightmare. Besides, fur rules." They give Paige an encouraging nod and then replace the jeans, "I could probably make something like that if I just order in or dye some denim like them, could be better than trying to alter for my weird- Wait, people post pictures of you with crosshairs? That's /seriously/ fucked. Prosti, that you have to go through that." "I say show off what you got. You wear undies at least, right? What are they gonna see? A furry pair of thighs if someone tries to peek up your dress? I'd take it as a compliment." Allison says as she sways back and forth to the light music coming over the speakers, humming along with the lyrics. "You also have a great base color for your fur. Almost anything can go with it. I'd say light reds and pinks would be hot on you. Gentle blue colors perhaps. What do you think, Mari? I think she'd look super cute in a sun dress, bohemian style. A bit of flare and ruffle at the ends of the dress. Spaghetti straps. Cream color with a tye dye red and blue effect to it. That'd be so kosh." To Mari, she nods her head. "Yeah, they spray painted my dad's garage with shit like Mutie Trash and Die Mutie Die. Blahbbity blah blah. I'm used to mean things said about me on the internet. Not so much the death threats though. You'd think I shit on someone's baby just because I came out that I glow and sparkle once in awhile. That's not going to stop me from being myself though. I'm tempted to just bust out in song right now, like a cartoon. No one is gonna kill the joy in my heart." Paige's posture stiffens as she looks through other jeans and her ears push down and back. "I don't exist for other people to get a ride or enjoyment out of looking at my body." The young woman's jaw is set and she gives up sifting through the trousers to stare vacantly. "Especially not areas of my body that are intimate to me. I do not take people looking up my legs as a compliment and I /will/ never take it as one. My body exists to house my mind and allow me to interact with the world, not to be eye-candy to some pervert's whimsy. And, honestly, it must be nice to only get death threats and spray-painting." The ire in the goat mutant's voice is uncommon for her. "And their name is Marinov. Not Mari. But other than that, yeah, those dresses sound like a great idea. I think I'll go look for them over /there/." With that, Paige does indeed make her way over to a round rack of dresses, discarding the jeans she was looking at. Marinov rubs their neck lightly and glances towards Paige, mumbling helpfully to add onto her comment about their name, "Or Tay if you want to go with something short. I feel weird about shortening my last name." They cross their arms uncomfortably over their stomach and say to Paige, "People can be upset about shit that's bothering them. It's still super fucked up to get death threats and stuff..." To Allison, "Umm. Though. I'm not sure what you mean by, like, a compliment. What's a compliment?" There is a roll of Allison's eyes. "It was a tongue in cheek comment, it wasn't meant to be literal, Paige." She says as she gives a shake of her head. "Nevermind, obviously this was a bad idea." She says as she gives a look over to Marinov. "I'll just take off. It was good seeing you again." She says to both as she heads to the counter to check out. Pausing at the rack of dresses, Paige's ears twitch at Marinov's comment and she brings a hand to her bowed head, splaying the fingers across her face. "I'm -- I apologize. I'm not in a good place today. Head-wise." The horned mutant's ears wilt and she inhales deeply. "Tay, you're right. I just -- it's not okay what I said. Death threats and shit are real and scary. I just --- I'm just really self-conscious about my body. I don't like the thought of people looking at me or watching me. I get so much attention on the streets just walking around as a mutant and it doesn't stop." Another sigh and she pulls her hand away from her face to look up. Just in time to see a disgruntled looking higher-up employee heading towards them. "Shit." Her ears flick up and her eyes widen. "I think we better scram." "Been stressful lately," agrees Marinov, "And yeah, fair to hate the staring." They nod and jut a thumb towards the exit, before starting to slink in that direction. After putting the items on the counter, Allison pulls out her sparkly blue wallet and takes out a shiny credit card. Noticing the man heading over towards the pair, she calls out, "Sir! I could really use some help. I'm dying to find these in a size four." She says as she holds up the pink denim. "I have a super important photo gig coming up and these would look /amazing/. Hashtag vintage. Think you can help me out?" The shop manager, clearly bent on his intent to remove the 'freaks' from his nice thrift shop, blinks and turns at the unexpected request from Allison. With an easy, albeit forced, smile, he curtly bows his head. "Apologies, miss. You will have better luck with one of the floor employees. I am the manager." By this point, Paige has already crept out the door, placing her hands together and giving Allison a bow of gratitude before indicating that she will call the dazzling vocal star later. Marinov offers a bit of a wave as well when Paige turns around, but slips on past her out of the building.