|Scene Title||Fashion Disasters|
|Synopsis||Tonks wanders into the new clothing store in Diagon Alley, and gets possibly more than she bargained for.|
|Location||Diagon Alley - Habitual Habiliments|
|Date||Oct 24, 1994|
|Watch For||Invading personal space|
For the past decade or so, Mortimer's done his business traveling style. With a splashy tent so that he can pack up, move along, pick up more customers. Living the life of a nomad. With panache and class of course. Recently? It's been a good idea to pick a place, setup shop. Oh he can still take his fashion show on the road, so to speak, yet having a stationary shop is a good idea. Perhaps pick up an apprentice or two, since he has no children of his own to teach. Yet.
Mortimer sweeps through the main area of his shop, the cape he wears over his shoulders swishing with a flourish. Tucked under his arm is a Crup, who happens to be wearing a jacket and top hat that matches its master's. Frightening, but fashionable. He's overseeing the final placement of a few touches. Vases of flowers, paintings, the mirrors. Everything has to look /just/ right, or he'll be in a snit.
It has come to a certain Auror's attention that there's a new clothing shop in town. Despite being what one would call a fashion disaster, Nymphadora Tonks so does love fashion. Muggle, Wizard…whatever. She mixes and matches (not so much the latter) and weaves it all into her own haphazard style. So naturally, she must scope out this new place!
So in through the door she goes and immediately she's assaulted with what appears to be a rather gaudy style, what with the lounges and those fancy windows. Having never been to France, she's definitely chalking things up in 'gaudy'. But this does not detour her for she has yet to see the clothes! And speaking of which, Tonks is traipsing through looking like she's committing a capital crime for the fashion Police. She's wearing her favorite pair of Dad's Jeans (tm), complete with almost enough holes to make a Hair Band's Lead Singer jealous (think Joe Elliot from Def Leppard), clunky shoes complete with mismatched socks. For some reason she's wearing what appears to be a lime green trench coat over an equally eye-bothering orange top. Her hair is pink, but the shade seems to be more Shock-Pink than the customary bubblegum. Someone is ruining Tonks' love for pink apparently.
And for added insult for the poor shop keeper's eyes should he notice her? Tonks trips on something and ends up careening into the aforementioned chaise and lounge chairs. It's by some miracle her trip manages to miss the tables with the vases, but when all said and done, the poor girl's under a flipped over chaise. Having just now noticed that there's a sweeping Metro in the shop there's a sheepish grin that appears under a veil of that bright pink hair (she's wearing it shoulder length today for some reason)
Hear that noise? That's the sound of a jaw dropping and hitting the floor. Mortimer needless to say, is horrified at what Tonks is wearing. "No no no dear, you cannot walk around like /that/," he tsks in an airy fairy sort of tone. The Crup is set down on the floor so that the man can approach this woman in desperate need of his help. In more ways than one, he lets out a feminine sounding screech of fear at the tripping. Wand out, he's ready to start righting and repairing anything that needs it. "You lack style and definition dear and with that hair, we want to accent it, yes. No wonder you are also tripping, look at the size of those.. I suppose I could call them shoes."
"Sorry!" She's immediately thinking that the fop's going off about the fact she crashed his gaudy little entrance way. She's pushing herself up and she blinks. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" She glances down. The shoes, they probably look like some dude's shoes that she liked that she charmed to fit her feet. She also glances up to her hair. "Accent it?" Ever get the feeling that Tonks has no clue about this concept of 'Color Coordination'.
Crashed in oh so many ways. "Nothing darling, nothing unless you want to look as if you've wandered from a rubbish heap!" Mortimer cups his chin in a white-gloved hand as he circles Tonks. "Although, this .. style for lack of a better term.. works for you. However." Don't mind him as he starts touching at the hair, "Do you always wear this color?" Thinking that she's charmed her hair this shade, he asks this.
Rubbish heap! "I just like the way they look," Individually. Really, that's how Tonks shops. She finds something she likes and buys it. Later, she rummages around and guesses which might look good. That's why she's so guilty of wearing leggings under skirts. She blinks when her hair's mentioned. Having no qualms about her abilities, despite Umbridge's subtle insistence she's a freak, Tonks chirps, "Nah, the usual shade's this," The hair ends up going into it's softer shade of pink, the typical 'bubblegum' shade.
Mortimer mmhmms, and manages to make it sound so dubious. Although, the way he's eying what Tonks is wearing, he's pondering how quickly he can burn the threads. When her hair changes color, he smiles with delight. "Ah! Yes. I have the perfect fabric for you. I just had it imported!" He flourishes with his wand and a bolt of shimmery cloth zooms from the backroom. The bolt levitates alongside Tonks while a length pulls itself free, floating against the witch. Once against Tonks, the fabric starts changing colors in pastel shades. "Have you any evening gowns or fancy robes?"
Please don't go ripping off her clothes just to destroy them. She likes this coat. And does he know how hard it is to keep jeans like this from nto falling apart? She does seem to cringe when there's suddenly a bolt of cloth deciding to get friendly, but she's instantly entranced by how it shimmers and changes colors. "Oh I didn't know cloth could cha—eh? Uh." She scratches her head. /Does/ she have anything fancy. "Not needed it lately, so, don't think so?" She doubts her school dress robes would work.
Despite the travesty of attire that Tonks is walking around in, even Morty can see that it works for her. Hence, designing something fancy for her would be his charity work for the decade. He waves his gloved hand in a foppish way, and a measuring tape comes zooming from nowhere and sets to work on taking down Tonks's measurements. Invasion of personal space much? No matter. "Your name. Trust me darling, you will be a whole new person when I have designed for you. If that is your answer, then it has been too long since you've had fancy attire. To say nothing of having one of Mordred's designs! That fabric yes, we shall be using that." He hasn't even asked for Tonks's opinion nor does he want it. Talk about a deaf ear! Fingers snapping, a quill sets to jotting down notes on parchment. "Give me a week, and no one will recognize you!"
Fortunately, Tonks doesn't usually use her metamorphing abilities to make her body look better. She doesn't really see the need to. She outgrew the 'want to be pretty' phase of adolescence quickly (if she even hit it at all). She's not a bad looker, in face or in body. Her lifestyle as an Auror helps her deal with her food choices, so she's never really bothered to try to appear with a 'better body'. She's awesome how she is! "Mordred?" She says, though it's obvious she might've heard that name before. She gets distracted because there's suddenly tape where tape shouldn't be. "Ah!" Name, name! "Oh, tonks… Um, Nymphadora Tonks. And what would I wear something like that too?" She goes /clubbing/ not to fancy brunches!
"Shush my dear, you are ruining the moment." Tonks? TONKS? What kind of.. augh. And he thought his parents got carried away with naming schemes. Alas. Mortimer shoos the measuring tape off, and the measurements are notated down. "A lovely young woman such as yourself surely goes to fancy parties and on dates?" If not, the men around her are blind. BLIND he says. (Or thinks rather.) Again, his eyes are roving the woman, still circling. "Mmmmm.. Fancy dress robes, you can get those anywhere.. I'm thinking gown, yes. No wait. Dress, yes. No longer than knee-length. Trust me Miz Tonks. I know what I am doing."
Moment, what moment? At least he didn't say her name sounded like what a goose sounds like. The comment about dates and parties, and all she can do is go "Uh…." and gives that odd sheepish grin again. "S-ure…um. OKay." Hey, she likes clothes, even if she's being slightly assaulted by a fop. Knee-length? She glances down, standing ont he sides of her feet. Hopefully her legs are up to task!
Mortimer taptaps a gloved finger to his cheek. "I will also make sure there are shoes to match. Those? Will not do." As for the shorter hems? Good idea. He saw her clumsy entrance into his new shop! "Do you dress like this all of the time?" The tip is to keep the woman in her element, and to make sure the clothes allow her to shine!
She shrugs. "Kind of. Sometimes it's just a jeans and t-shirt day, other times it's a rummage through he wardrobe and figure out what looks good day." It was obviously one of the latter today. But between the two it should be obvious Tonks doesn't bother with the fancy stuff often — if at all. Unless it's going to be part of a mismatched monstrosity for the day.
"Hmm." Mortimer is not impressed. "I shall fix that for you! One week I say, then you come back. I will have something ready for you. And you will be back again for robes, and perhaps a wedding gown." Sharp eyes he's got, no wedding band is noted. "To say nothing negative about what you are choosing to wear now.. it is my experience that if you show off your inner beauty, the men, they will find you irresistible."
Wedding gown? Tonks can't help but blush mainly because, who thinks about wedding gowns when they're not even got their eyes set on someone yet! "I'll take your word for it. But I'll come back, don't worry," She's curious now and wants to see his work! The name sounds familiar so she's probably going to be browsing through wizarding fashion to see if he pops up anywhere. Or it just could be the fact the name Mordred sounds familiar because her Dad told her about King Arthur at one point.
"Now shoo my lovely, my genius needs to work. Same time next week. You will return and be amazed!" Mortimer then makes shooing motions with his hands, lips twisting into a smile under his pencil thin mustache. "Come Aries, we have to transform this woman into the butterfly she is!"
Shoo'd! There's a sigh but Tonks doesn't object. She gives one last look at the rather eccentric tailor before she heads out of the shop. And towards ice cream.
Any additional notes fall to the bottom.