Widdershins

Alester's first paycheck mainly went to not getting thrown into the streets, but pretty high up on the list of things he desperately needed was more clothing. While he'd gotten another shirt as one of his earliest Burby purchases he didn't actually have an entire second outfit to wear while the first was being cleaned, which was becoming awkward. Buying clothes, however, presented a problem. It wasn't that he looked out of place, because there barely seemed to be any prevailing fashion, but that he couldn't quite find what he was used to, certainly not at prices he could afford. So he had no idea what sort of thing he should be wearing both in terms of appropriateness and style, which was something of a first. Honestly, he was probably lucky the store sorted things into men's and women's saving him from any obvious disasters.

He ran his hand along racks of clothes, trying to judge his size and wishing he had bought a tape measure because he'd never actually had to buy anything that wasn't tailored before and didn't know his size. There wasn't much of anything that wasn't tailored in Charterre. But then a tape measure is only so much help if you don't actually know the units of measurement or how they correspond to being an "XL" in something, which he was pretty sure he was not. Of course, there were people working there--at least, presumably, he couldn't actually find an employee at the moment--but how exactly do you broach the topic of never having worn either kind of undergarment for sale and how to pick between them, let alone what size. He picked up a package and found himself slightly distracted by the photograph. If anyone had asked he would have claimed it was because photographs were a fascinating novelty and not anything to do with the fact that this one depicted the item being worn.

[ooc: Feel free to respond in action or prose I just happen to be feeling verbose. So very open.]