Ford looked at the ceiling while she took measurements, except for a few times when the tape measure surprised him by pressing up somewhere he didn't expect and he glanced down to see what it was about. He was glad she was taking measurements magically; he would have been mortified to have her hands all over him this way, even if it was just her job.
"Blue sounds good, yeah," he agreed. He wasn't sure he had too much of an opinion on this, but there was something off-putting about the idea of turning Tycho's suit from white to black. Blue seemed like a color Ty might appreciate, more than the alternatives — but of course, Tycho was never going to see it. "Unless you think something else would go better with her dress. Whatever fits is fine."
He tried not to let his shoulders sag when he put the jacket on, but it did feel far weightier than he knew it to be. It was a fairly efficient cut, and breathable, he knew that from having worn it last summer. The heavy feeling was just in his head, and there was probably nothing a tailor could do to help alleviate it before the wedding day.
Greer said it was well-made, and Ford offered a slightly pained smile. "It was a gift," he admitted. "From someone with better fashion sense than me." Whether the average person would call Ty's fashion sense good was debatable, but as someone who spent long stretches surrounded by ghosts in anachronistic clothing, the departures from typical fashion had never bothered him. Tycho definitely had a better sense for quality than Ford did, when it came to fashion — and very intimate knowledge of all the contours of his body, which helped with the initial cut.
"We don't need to change anything else," he said, shrugging the jacket off. "I mean, I don't have any ideas about it, anyway. Whatever you think is best."
"Blue sounds good, yeah," he agreed. He wasn't sure he had too much of an opinion on this, but there was something off-putting about the idea of turning Tycho's suit from white to black. Blue seemed like a color Ty might appreciate, more than the alternatives — but of course, Tycho was never going to see it. "Unless you think something else would go better with her dress. Whatever fits is fine."
He tried not to let his shoulders sag when he put the jacket on, but it did feel far weightier than he knew it to be. It was a fairly efficient cut, and breathable, he knew that from having worn it last summer. The heavy feeling was just in his head, and there was probably nothing a tailor could do to help alleviate it before the wedding day.
Greer said it was well-made, and Ford offered a slightly pained smile. "It was a gift," he admitted. "From someone with better fashion sense than me." Whether the average person would call Ty's fashion sense good was debatable, but as someone who spent long stretches surrounded by ghosts in anachronistic clothing, the departures from typical fashion had never bothered him. Tycho definitely had a better sense for quality than Ford did, when it came to fashion — and very intimate knowledge of all the contours of his body, which helped with the initial cut.
"We don't need to change anything else," he said, shrugging the jacket off. "I mean, I don't have any ideas about it, anyway. Whatever you think is best."
Set by Lady!