(IC) comment on the above oc's fashion sense

"Are you a highwayman?" Jan-paul asked. From the safe distance on his horse. His horse was a warmblood, thin and built for racing. Now shivering in the snow. "Or a traveler?" The merchant asked. As he leaned forward in his saddle and his eyes inspected Harper from top to bottom. They lingered in the other's weapon. This sword. Jan-Paul couldn't place it but something seemed to be wrong with it. Uneased the overdressed and extravagant merchant shifted in his saddle. "You're at least dressed more like a traveler than a highway-robber," he said. As if he tried to convince himself that Harper wasn't going to skewer him on that sword of his.
"Light clothing for the road. A bit dirty maybe but," Jan-Paul judged. While literally sitting on his high-horse. "But passible." Jan-Paul tugged his horse reins. "Winter is far from over, maybe you should look for a warmer coat," he said. "You look as pale as a ghost!" Then laughed. Oh if he only knew.

Jan-Paul turned on his saddle and pointed backward. "The city is in that direction. Quite the hike! I estimate the distance to be a rough 5 kilometers?" Jan-Paul said. As his rich privileges seeped through.
"But they sell cloaks there, made of wool and water resistance." He shifted back in his saddle.
"Your choice, of course. You can always haunt these country roads like some kind of..spirit or something," he said. Then shrugged.

--

Jp voice: can I have your autograph? 

"Ah, you're.... Quite interesting, yes." Idol stared at the other party's.... Gold shoes? Oh, rich people.

"You're certainly wearing... A lot." Idol stated with a small smirk, still keeping her eyes on the shiny boots. "It's... Very interesting on what you're wearing. Your uh- fur coat is... Fluffy I guess-" she took her eyes off his shoes and finally stared at the soft fur from his coat. She quickly added: "But I do like your green jacket! It's very unique, no?" She attempted to give a heart warming smile, but it only came out as if she was about to burst out in laughter. 

"Ah, jokes aside, are you always hot? Don't you ever take off one of those coats? You seem a bit overdressed." 

Np, here's her normal outfit and her vent outfit! Feel free to comment on both or one!

TBN's eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner as she took in the outfit. Pretty plain, but it wasn't as if she could comment. After all, she was pretty basic. Huff. 

'Nice outfit." she commented, unsure of what else to say. Usually, she had unlimited confidence and unlimited sarcasm, but there wasn't much else to say.

"Oh, what an adorable little puppy!" Smith was quick to coo with a flutter of her lashes, as she immediately opted to lean in towards the canine and reach a hand out to pet the other party's head. Not that her fingers actually ended up feeling the dog's fur, but... It didn't matter. Smith was absolutely fucking entranced either way, and... Well... It showed. Miserably.

"Aren't you one to reckon?" she continued to chirp while fawning over the other party and her spotted fur. Whatever outfit the canine had on didn't even seem to attract the young woman's attention as she started to circle her and flutter her eyes at her. "I've seen a lot of fellows like you, but... All of them have walked on, well... Uhhh... Four legs, you know?" Smith giggled sheepishly while holding her hand out and wiggling four of the fingers in an attempt to make it look... Remotely like a dog. "I've never seen a dog walk around on two legs, in other words! I don't mean to be rude, of course, but!"

And with that, Smith hopped a step back as she held her hands out and absolutely beamed at the other party. Oh, to try hugging a fuzzy dog who may or may not consider her as overly ditzy...

The worry, admittedly, was at the back of her mind, but her words were free of any doubt as the young aristocrat then gasped, "Look at yooooooouuuuuuu! And your outfit!" Which, technically, was just a black hoodie, but... Smith's eyes retained their usual youthful sparkle as she giggled and held her hands to her cheeks. "That looks so comfortable!" she chirped with a slight squeak, "If you don't mind, then... Maybe you can tell me where you got such a garment? It looks like one of those clothes that you can procure from a bourgeois place, you know! It's rather lovely, really!"

Her husband, on the other hand...

Smith giggled once more as she then hopped a step closer towards the other party and proposed, "Actually! We could talk more about fashion if you'd like! Over tea, or whatever you like... Or nothing at all, really? Are you the talkative type? It's okay if you're not, but..." She giggled sheepishly into her hand before immediately converting into a shrinking violet. Uh oh.

"I mean... My husband might have to approve you coming over, of course." Oh. With an awkward cough into her sleeve, Smith then sniffed, "He's a rather morose fellow at times, but... He's good to know, especially if you want someone who's knowledgeable, mm?" Her grin grew somewhat, both in size and sheepishness. "And he'll warm up eventually! Really! Maybe you and him can get along just fine!" Yea... Maybe...

@ NP: feel free to respond to Smith's post-hospice tab if you desire, though be aware that she'd only wear hospital gowns at that point in her life!! also, please lmk if this is the case so that I can respond appropriately!!

I'll also try my best to do a follow-up for NP if I have the time- :0c

_{I'm breaking our rp timeline because im interacting with pre-hospice cause I have a cute idea ok thanks}

Xander’s fingers plucked the strings of his lute while a big grin piqued from beneath his mutton-chops.
“Give me a twirl,” he encouraged her. “Show the world that beautiful dress you’re wearing madam!”
Xander smiled wider as he sped up his fingers, even his music seemed to encourage Smith to do a spin. He laughed. Then paused his fingers.
Xander leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knee and allowing his head to rest on his hand. “That skirt looks good on you madam! It’s very, rich,” he said. Then frowned.
“Colorful too. Unlike your husband,” he said. The words had left his lips before he’d even reconsidered them. Xander grimaced.
“Oh, sorry madam it’s not my rank to talk ill about sir Johnson,” the singer said. Biting his lower lip and allowing his fingers to wander over his instrument’s strings again. Just to ease away the tension.
“I’m sure he likes your colorful gowns. I sure do madam. If my opinion holds any value to you,” he said. Giving the aristocrat a wary smile.

“Oh. Maybe you should try a hat once madam,” he said. Changing the topic. Xander used his thumb to place the fur-hat on his head back on top and laughed. “They can be quite handy! Warm too, madam. Especially in this frosty-winter,” he said.
“I know a local hat-maker. I’m sure they can make you something costume make. A commission, madam, if you want,” Xander said. “THey’ve made my hat as well.” Xander slowly moved his hand from his instrument and plucked his fur-hat from his crown. He held it out to her.
“Try it on!” he said. While his hair peeped in all directions. “It’s a very warm hat, madam.” 

--

He turned around and started to laugh. "Well thank you!" Xander beamed. Before pressing his fist just below his ribs and nodding his head. Something that functioned as a formal bow in his world.
"I do appreciate your words friend. But I wonder, don't you think it's too," the singer paused. "Stiff?"

Gabe gaped at the fantastical outfit, he never seen anything like it " wowie!! Your so fannccyyyyy!!" The pyro look memorized at how cool the outfit looked, he never really sees anything fancy

Odette might have been unable to see... But, that didn't mean she couldn't be a complete ass about fashion, right?

Leaning towards the whisper of a particularly more muscular woman, Odette's face remained turned to Fabien, and meanwhile both she and her companion seemed less than thrilled. It wasn't long until she spoke, however, and she did so in a... slightly colder-than-usual monotone, as she stated flatly, "I'm not sure how you've not been gutted yet, but then again, I'm not one for protection, either, though simply because I wouldn't be caught dead in men's wear."

Gods, did pants sound so infuriating to wear! She had to hold her tongue on that thought, figuring it didn't matter as much.

She whispered something else to her confidant, before admitting a bit louder to Fabien, "I'm not sure if I would agree on your outfit having more style, though personally, I might find both a little drab. But, maybe it suits you... being a singer, is that right? I'm not so surely if I would entirely call such a suit formal. But!" And that was as much emotion as she was going to put into the situation, "Your boots -- I'm reminded that I need new heels. I assume you're short, though, if what my friend says is true. Nothing wrong with that, obviously. I just don't know how to talk to short people."

What.

@ np pick whatever outfit(s) you want + maybe i'll write a follow-up post :v

Definitely, the clothes of the girl standing right in front of him were something Frederick would wear. The colour scheme seemed to be even a little bit sad for him, but that's because he was a huge fanatic of clothes with bright colors and weird patterns. But, from his point of view, that style were really nice in the girl! The pale violet from the dress hems, highlighted precious with the skin and hair of the woman. She even reminded him to the females of the Victorian England in some way! 

Oh, heck yeah. Finally, someone with taste. The tacky, bright colors, the flared pants- chef's kiss. "I love your shirt, man. Where'd you get it?" Kamilah asked the stranger. She tugged at her own colorful button-up. "This one's from the Goodwill $3 dollar bin. Same place as at least half a dozen of my others. But I cant get over that pattern." And while it wasn't her style, she could appreciate the undone top buttons.

Smithson rubbed his chin as he carefully scrutinized the flashy shirt in front of him, prompting him to remark, "Well... If I have to be honest with you... Your outfit certainly reminds me of one of those wares that salespeople tend to wear, if only for the sake of making themselves stand out to potential buyers." He paused and peered over the collar of the shirt with a frown. "That makes sense, right? I mean... Influencers and salespeople... They're basically the same thing. I think."

They were, in fact, not. Smithson, the fact that you're old is showing.

"Still, it's no wonder that my wife remembers you," the older man huffed with a raised brow, "You're bound to be recognized with ease, though I can't say whether that's a good thing or not. But either way, it's all about getting people to remember you. If they can recognize you, they're more likely to agree with what you have to say. And..." He trailed off to cough into his sleeve, then gesture a hand at the other party with a raised brow.

"... That's a philosophy that you abide by when you make those reviews... Right? I'm not saying that you're shallow by any means, of course. I mean!" Smithson pointed a hand at himself and raised his brows. "I use the same tactics when it comes to politics, so I can suppose that the principles are fairly useful. They're good to point out in other people as well, wouldn't you agree?" He chuckled under his breath, as if that was somehow a funny joke. Alas, his tone was monotonous, and the middle-aged man could only shift his feet uncomfortably while he placed his hands into his pockets.

"So, don't worry too much about me prattling about," huffed an aristocrat who was indeed prattling at the moment, "The most that I can really say from here is recommendations about various clothes and what you can procure, but... I'm sure you wouldn't need such 'advice,' huh?"

Now that was a step too far in the self-depreciation department. Smithson's outfit was similarly flashy, if only to render himself like an ornamental bird. She, too, resembled one of those avian creatures in a way... As a compliment, of course. He had to remind himself that this was the case, even if he was... Trying his best to seem nice? Or at least not interject so many scoffs into his dialogue...

He did, however, nudge the platter of pastries towards the other woman and opine, "Oh, and by the way... My wife told me that you're an interesting person to be around. Maybe you can spend some time with her, if you want? We'll try our best to better prepare the kitchen if you two choose to bake again, though... Of course." Yea. Hopefully.

I'll try my best to do a follow-up for NP if I have the time!!

Salvador weighted Monroe's glaive in his hands. "You wield this?" He asked the instruman. With skepticism audible in his voice.
"Okay," he bluntly stated. Before giving the weapon a swing. "This thing is heavy," he said. Salvador eyed Montroe.
"Too heavy for me," the Kraker concluded. He held out the weapon to its owner. Then crossed his arms. "Are you a poleman? A skewer?" Salvador asked.
"I mean you do wear the outfit of a fencer. A duelist," he said. As the skepticism in his voice made room for doubt. Clothes did make the man.
"Your pants don't hinder your movements. Practical. You wear a cravat. Only duelists wear cravats."
He paused.

"Are you a duelist?" He finally asked. "A swashbuckler? A combatant?" Salvador slowly set down on the training ground's bench and planted his elbows on his knees. He rested his head in his hands. The small thief eyed the Instruman as if he saw the man in another light. A more heroic one. All specks of doubt and skepticism had evaporated. Just like that.
"I got a weapon too." He plucked his bandensnijder from his belt. Then proudly showed it off. It was a small shank. Hardly polished enough to cut through textile. Let alone skin. It looked even more pathetic, next to Monroe's glaive.
"Maybe you should give me fencing tips. How to place my feet and such," Salvador suggested. "You look like an expert. Or at least. Are dressed as one."

--

Salvador when somebody doesn't call him a mouse face or a weasel, or accuse him of having lice

"Has anyone told you you're rather handsome, Wapenburg? Do you mind if I call you that, actually? Bah." Lacie huffed as she held a cape of white fur over his shoulders, only to remove it after a millisecond. "I think your outfit helps with that. It's nice, it's natural, it's..." It's?

Whatever it was, she forgot all about it, as she looked over the younger man. In particular, she eyed his hand for a moment, before feeling it necessary -- or not, she was simply curious -- to ask him, "Is that real gold, or is it gold plating? I ask because of... well, I don't want to say your status, but good gold is difficult to come across back home. Too bad I feel like I would get whipped for wearing costume jewelry."

Lacie took another step back, and then flopped down in the chair behind her, giving an almost dramatic sigh. She laid the pelt over her lap, digging her hands underneath it. She had very cold hands. But at least they weren't EVIL HANDS.

"Though, I'm also interested to know what's in that satchel hooked to your leg." she told him, "Herbs, like the one on your front? Not that I'm telling you to empty it, if you don't want to. I doubt I would need or want anything from you anyway, though, so don't worry... Herbs are smart, though, I'll say!" she exclaimed, huddling further under the... fur, "It helps with... decency, I think that's what I'm going for. Herbs help you smell nice. Obviously."

But, that wasn't all. She was still thinking about that goat. That damn goat.

"Speaking of herbs, do you have clothes to dress Geit in?" Herbs have nothing to do with Geit, other than she probably eats them. "I think it would be sweet if she matched you." she suggested, "I wanted to make clothes for Salmon -- our dog -- but Flavio said he wouldn't want to wear clothes. I suppose that's true. He's rowdy, he'll tear it up..."

maybe will follow-up ?

"Lacie! It's been so long sister! I hope I can still come see you. And I hope I am still welcome in your home... I hope we are still friends?" As Lena gave a pitiful but hopeful smile. "And as a friend. May I just say your choice in fashion is sophisticated and beautiful! The way you dress yourself is how you carry yourself. It matches a lady such as yourself! Strong, brave, and admirable! When people see you. They respect you. They know they are in the presence of a true lady! An honorable wife to her family and a working wife. And can I just say. Your wardrobe is exquisite! Only you Lacie. Could rock any outfit with confidence!" Lena nervously clears her throat. "Though. If I may add one thing... Um.. Perhaps more colors to your wardrobe wouldn't hurt?" Then she immediately regret that last sentence... How can she be so stupid to even suggest. Isn't she already on thin ice with Lacie after flirting with her husband... Lena cheeks reddens. She felt so embarrassed and ashamed. Like that stupid girl all over again... She has to win Lacie's love and trust again! Lena gives her an awkward smile... The girl hoped Lacie will still be able to tolerate her. She wanted to speak again. Write her wrongs.... "I mean- Even the slightest details, like the frills on your collar to the gold lines by your cuffs are excellently done! Very subtle, but tells us you are a mature refined woman! In fact. I took back what I said. I'm so so very sorry Lacie... I. I think just the hint of gold on your wrist is enough for colors! Hehe..." Or perhaps she should have just stopped yapping a while ago.

Lena gasps as the Empress said she looked gorgeous. Wow! Those words, coming from such a renown lady! Either she was sincere or not, Lena will take those beautiful words to heart. Her eyes glimmer with hope and admiration as the other woman kept speaking. The Empress was so well dress and proper looking! How could a girl like Lena be in such a presence! "No Miss Empress. These actually don't bother me at all!" Then she covers her mouth coyly to let out a giggle. "I'm actually not a fighter either! So that's probably why these robes don't bother me! I'm more of a spell caster!" She eagerly grabs the other woman's hands. "Oh please! You must show me your wardrobe! If you look like this normally, I'd love to see your evening gown!"