The dark shirt and 501s aren’t too much of a shock, although the button fly is going take some getting used to. You tuck the shirt in, and the untuck it. Bae might be onto something there, you reason.
A fawn cardigan catches your eye, but is it too big for you? The sleeves go right over your hands. It’s cashmere or lamb’s wool though. It’s pretty nice to wear.
Finally as you hear the door open, you kick your feet into some beat-up old Doc Martins. Yellow laces? Can that be right?
”It’s only me!” says Bae with a clinking of teaspoons and china. “I didn’t know how much milk and sugar you take so I brought everything. Now I hope you’re wearing something behind there because I’m going to pull back the screens in five, four, three, two, one, zero!”
Bae nods and takes in your new look.
”The cardigan is a bit big,” you admit.
”Big is bold!” Bae enthuses. “One thing though.” She unbuttons all but one button and pulls the shoulder down a little on one side.
”Maybe I could find some newer boots?” you ask.
Bae shakes her head. “DMs are supposed to be worn fucked up. When Deborah at Our Price got her last pair, she got some bikers to ride over them two of three times to get them looking right.”
Bae hands you a cup of tea. (goto 93)