December 30th, 1891 - The Modiste Rose
The year was coming to a close, and most families were likely enjoying this limbo between holidays to relax at home by the fire, or perhaps play in the fresh layer of snow that fell overnight. Ida, however, was interested in neither of these things. She didn't care to stay at home for very long, and had plenty of errands to prepare for a swift return to a new semester.
The primary task was to come up with a gown that would suit her Hogwarts debut. It's true that she already owned one passably nice dress to suit the occasion, but with an excuse to wear it at a party tomorrow, she couldn't very well wear the same thing again. Ida understood that even such a subtle cue could make people think her family was headed to financial ruin. These complicated society rules were so overwhelming sometimes.
So at the behest of a friend who insisted she was much too tall and narrow to rely on anything already made, Ida ventured to the modiste for a proper fitting. Even though she braced herself for it, it didn't take long to feel like she was in way over her head. The modiste was nothing but kind, of course. But the matter of fabrics and seasons and settings and themes and hats and jewels and adornments and Merlin knows what else rivaled any of the most complex transfiguration formulas she'd encountered.
Fortunately, Ida excelled in ambiguity. Choosing a scientific approach to the matter, she leaned into the discomfort and asked many questions (and resisted the urge to take out her journal to take notes). As a result, her fitting took far longer than usual. When she had arrived the shop was empty, and now it was abuzz with activity.
Their fitting was finally coming to an end, with Ida standing on a platform as the modiste took a final hem on the possible drape of her skirt. She'd picked a few things and honestly had little sense of how it all fit together, but the modiste assured her it would be more than appropriate. While she waited, Ida couldn't help but admire the fabric chosen by the woman beside her. When the woman came into the shop some time ago, Ida noticed her right away. She had all the air of someone confident and of daring, modern taste. She had expertise too, at least it seemed to Ida, for she had made quick work with her modiste.
It took her oogling enough; Ida shouldn't have been surprised when their eyes caught each other's in their reflections.
"That color looks divine, especially with your complexion," Ida commented. She had a knack for being rather forward and saying exactly what she felt. The shy smile on her face was just as genuine. "I would have never thought to try it myself. May I ask what type of fabric this is?"
The primary task was to come up with a gown that would suit her Hogwarts debut. It's true that she already owned one passably nice dress to suit the occasion, but with an excuse to wear it at a party tomorrow, she couldn't very well wear the same thing again. Ida understood that even such a subtle cue could make people think her family was headed to financial ruin. These complicated society rules were so overwhelming sometimes.
So at the behest of a friend who insisted she was much too tall and narrow to rely on anything already made, Ida ventured to the modiste for a proper fitting. Even though she braced herself for it, it didn't take long to feel like she was in way over her head. The modiste was nothing but kind, of course. But the matter of fabrics and seasons and settings and themes and hats and jewels and adornments and Merlin knows what else rivaled any of the most complex transfiguration formulas she'd encountered.
Fortunately, Ida excelled in ambiguity. Choosing a scientific approach to the matter, she leaned into the discomfort and asked many questions (and resisted the urge to take out her journal to take notes). As a result, her fitting took far longer than usual. When she had arrived the shop was empty, and now it was abuzz with activity.
Their fitting was finally coming to an end, with Ida standing on a platform as the modiste took a final hem on the possible drape of her skirt. She'd picked a few things and honestly had little sense of how it all fit together, but the modiste assured her it would be more than appropriate. While she waited, Ida couldn't help but admire the fabric chosen by the woman beside her. When the woman came into the shop some time ago, Ida noticed her right away. She had all the air of someone confident and of daring, modern taste. She had expertise too, at least it seemed to Ida, for she had made quick work with her modiste.
It took her oogling enough; Ida shouldn't have been surprised when their eyes caught each other's in their reflections.
"That color looks divine, especially with your complexion," Ida commented. She had a knack for being rather forward and saying exactly what she felt. The shy smile on her face was just as genuine. "I would have never thought to try it myself. May I ask what type of fabric this is?"
@'Natsuko Mountbatton'