Youth Style

[just_a_chemical]

Eleanor has never really cared about fashion. Her mother's utilitarian philosophies leave little room for vanity; and anyway, ten years into the fall of her city, all their clothes are looted from the apartments of the dead. Nightgowns aren't as fitted, so they don't get outgrown as quickly, and they weren't as valuable a target for looters in years past, so they're the entirety of her wardrobe at home.

But the ship is cooler and less humid than the Persephone Correctional Facility, and she'd wanted to blend in better, not walk around barefoot in a nightgown all the time; so she'd asked the replicator to give her something that young people here would wear.

Big mistake.

What it vomited forth is so bad, it has actually made her have an opinion on fashion. The trousers are unremarkable, but the sweater looks like--well, like sheep had become too expensive, too demanding of resources, that scientists had started engineering clothing out of fungus, grown to order. If she hadn't gotten it from a replicator, she'd be sure that was the case, but surely wool fibers aren't more demanding to replicate than fungus.

Is this how they make their young people enlist, by offering them the choice between uniforms or this? Were the designers aiming for a strange organic beauty? Because splicer tumors have a strange organic beauty. This is just ugly. It's warm, which is why she's still wearing it, but it's so, so ugly.

And to make it even worse, three different people in the hallways mistook her for some boy she's never met. Either that or Wesley is just the local word for terrible dresser.

One moody teenager, slouched at a table in Ten Forward with a glass of cola and half a grilled peanut butter and apple sandwich she's not eating.

[picture bubble wrap rendered in brownish yarn. Ugly, ugly sweater. Feel free to laugh.]

Comments

[never_felt_better]

Okay, that's too much. His giggling intensifies into an outright guffaw. He rubs his face with one hand, setting his glass down on her table.

"Lordy, lordy, lawdy," he says, straddling the seat opposite her. Riker-style. When in Rome, and all that jazz. "Well, I think you were successful. But if you were trying to blend in, I hate to say it, but you look like moss on a horny toad's ass."

God, it's even funnier in person. The rainbow sweater was bad enough on his old TV back in the Florida suburbs. They didn't get the best reception, so they needed rabbit ears to pick up Star Trek, and the resulting image was often wavy. Even that looked cooler than this.

[just_a_chemical]

"That would make it better," she says. "The only way I'd want to wear this would be if it literally made me blend in--if it turned me invisible. You'd think with all the neutral colors here, I could find some brownish wall to stand next to and disappear. But none of the walls are fuzzy enough. Do you think they've got mold anywhere? Some sentient wall-fungus that wants to be one with my sweater, so it'll devour it and I can be free?"

Or she could take it off, go to a replicator and order some better clothes. She's just not sure what.

[never_felt_better]

"Uh, probably not," he chuckles. "But I like your imagination. What's the matter, kid? How come you want to hide that cute kid under all that... that?"

He'd figure what with no longer being under her mom's thumb, maybe she'd like to get out and meet some new people. Stretch her wings, not turn herself into wallpaper.

[just_a_chemical]

"I don't know much about fashion," she says. "I never had to choose my own clothing before--I just wore what I was given. The styles were all very different from what people wear here, and I knew I'd probably stand out in that, and why not try something new while I can? But what it gave me was so different from what I'm used to, and I thought maybe it was just my personal taste. I don't like the way the ship looks either; it's too plain, compared to my city. Maybe it was just my taste. But I don't think it is."

[never_felt_better]

Uh-huh, okay, John understands. This probably falls under the realm of 'girl talk', which isn't exactly his strong suit for all the obvious reasons and more. Fashion for John is a t-shirt and a nice pair of pants, but durable pants, not skinny jeans or whatever kids are wearing these days. Man's pants. Something with an unnecessary loop of fabric for carrying around a hammer.

"All right," he says, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table. "So you just need to find your sweet spot. Something new, but not too new, right? So what are you used to wearing back home? Favorite colors? Warm, cool?"

He can do this. Girl talk should be a piece of cake, right?

[just_a_chemical]

"At home, I basically wear a nightgown," she says. "You've seen it, I'm sure. There's a bit of a shortage of intact clothing, not that there was ever much for girls my height, and Mother doesn't want me to wear things that look patched, so nightgowns it is. Always plain white."

She has a few. Same style, same bit of lace and ribbon, same color.

"I wanted something different. This is certainly that."

[never_felt_better]

"Uh, yeah," he confirms. "Not that I was looking."

He still wants to make sure they're clear on that. He can be the friendly older brother type, but not the creepy old guy type, or the clingy daddy type. He doesn't really notice much, but it's been a while since he last saw a girl wear a nightgown. It left an impression.

"Well, you definitely can't go walking around in a nightgown unless you want people to start calling you Ebenezer," he says. Actually, it might be an improvement from "Wesley," but still. "So if there wasn't a shortage back home, what would you wear? Not here; don't worry about here. Just tell me the first thing that pops into your head that you like."

[just_a_chemical]

In fairness, it's an old-fashioned nightgown that could probably pass for a strange sundress... but people aren't wearing sundresses here either. It's not warm enough to need it.

"I like the suits the older girls at home wear," she says. "Not with all the reinforcements and armor--I won't be going out underwater, here. But under all that, they wear... they're like boilersuits, I suppose. Better for climbing around in, and better for doing science in. But..."

She shakes her head. "They'd probably make me look taller and thinner, and I don't need that. I don't need people concerned about what I eat."

[never_felt_better]

She is a weird kid. John cocks a smile at her. He likes weird kids, but come on, give him something to work with!

"Okay," he says, leaning back. He looks thoughtful for a minute. "Naw, that works. Yeah, I think we can work with that. So a boilersuit, nothing too tight, no heels, I'm thinking in... blue. It'll match your eyes."

See? He can totally do this girl talk thing. Wouldn't his sister be proud?