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elle woods

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She wasn't going to be able to keep the house. That much, Sansa already knew for a fact. With her and Arya's money pooled, it was affordable while still letting them stay afloat otherwise, with enough left over for food and any other necessities. On her own, though, there was just no way, and though she'd thought about taking on another form of income, it wouldn't do that much for her with school starting soon. Besides, it would probably draw attention to the fact that she was all of sixteen and living on her own, and that was the last thing she needed. She had trouble enough as it was. Granted, she also had people who would likely get her out of any more that arose, but she didn't want to rely on that. Once again, she was on her own here, and expecting otherwise was likely to get her in trouble. That was, of course, what had just happened with her sister.

Just the fact that this shopping trip was one they'd meant to take together made it harder for her than it otherwise would have been. Of course, Arya would likely have complained the whole time, if she were here, and proven to be nothing short of exasperating while offering no good advice whatsoever, but it would have been preferable to this, wandering around somewhat aimlessly, aware that she could afford very little. With school starting so soon, though, she still wanted to have at least a few new pieces of clothing. It was bound to be noticeable otherwise.

Walking by a rack of clothing with a slight frown, Sansa skimmed her fingertips along the edges of them, the hangers rattling a little as she did so. Nearly two years here, and though she could blend in well enough, she still didn't know what to look for, or even what she liked, not least because what was "in" seemed to change fairly frequently. It was much simpler at home, having clothing made for her or making it herself, knowing precisely what to do. This was still a new world, and one she was just learning about.

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Working for the D.A. pays way less than working for a big firm. Elle knew that going in, of course. She made enough this summer to stay comfortably afloat, but not by much, and not anywhere close to as comfortable as she would have been working with Emmett. That's the price of experience, apparently. Literally.

She's not letting it get her down, though. As much as she wishes she could be shopping in a nice little boutique somewhere, these superstores often have pretty great selections. It's just a matter of being selective and cautious. Some brands are way more reliable than others. Stepping alongside the other girl in the section, she reaches out for a dress, rubbing the fabric between her fingers and checking the hem. She doesn't even try to hide her disdainful sigh. "Yeah, no, thanks," she says. "That's gonna hold up for all of two months."

It was a habit that Sansa had gotten into some time ago, picked up without her entirely meaning to, watching other people shop. As far as she could see, though, it was the best way to figure out what to do. Certainly it was better than asking questions that should have had obvious answers and making clear just how little she knew about this world she'd been living in for some time now. Taking in what others did, the pieces they gravitated towards and the ones they dismissed, was almost as informative as the displays in the windows, most of which she couldn't manage to replicate for herself.

So when the woman spoke, Sansa couldn't help being interested, chin lifting. "How can you tell?" she asked after just a moment, deciding it couldn't give too much away. It seemed like the sort of thing that would be helpful to know, anyway.

Elle glances over, blinking in surprise, her smile sheepish. Talking to herself is probably a bad habit, but one she doesn't care enough to break, and anyway, it's a good question. "The fabric's cheap," she says. "Feel it. It doesn't have any real weight or give to it. Plus those stitches are way sloppy. They used the wrong kind for this fabric, so it's gonna rip a lot easier." She smiles and adds, by way of explanation, "I studied Fashion Merchandising. This is all the stuff you're supposed to avoid when buying for a store." Except that it's a hell of a lot cheaper for the retailer to make shoddy clothes with crappy materials.

Sansa wasn't quite sure what fashion merchandising was, but it was easy enough to get the general sense of it, and easier still to follow what the woman was saying. Though the clothing people wore here in Darrow was a far cry from anything she had been taught to make for herself, needlework had always been one of the things she most excelled at. Now that she was looking at it, she could see just how those stitches weren't quite right, which she supposed was the downside to mass producing all of it by machine. "Those don't seem like they would hold up very well, no," she agreed with a small smile. "I didn't know that was something a person could study."

"Well, only at some schools," Elle says. "It's not super common, but, yeah! Like, we studied composition and style and method and how to, like, chart trends. The whole economy of fashion. It's really fascinating. Although, I mean, obviously I think so or I wouldn't have studied it." She laughs, rolling her eyes at herself. It's far too easy for her to get carried away when talking to people about... pretty much anything.

"It does sound fascinating," Sansa said, smiling a little, largely because of the way the woman talked about it. It wasn't that what she said was untrue — she really did find it interesting — but when she didn't know very much about the subject, by Darrow's standards, there was only so much input she could give. Having already asked about it, though, she didn't think her lack of knowledge would seem as strange as she sometimes worried it might. "And helpful, too."

"It really is." Elle smiles, tugging gently at the fabric again. It's not her path anymore, but the lessons she learned in undergrad still go with her into her law studies and the rest of her life. There's something to be taken away from any path, she thinks. "When you have to watch your clothing budget, it helps to know how to pick out what's gonna last longest and look cutest. Back to school shopping?"

"I am," Sansa confirmed, nodding. "I almost wish I didn't have to, but it seems like what people wear changes so quickly." She had a difficult enough time trying to fit in as it was. At least what she wore was something she could control, unlike her background and how much it differed from that of her classmates. Whatever effort she had to put into keeping up with the trends, it was better than being looked at like she had been two years ago, just starting high school here and not knowing a thing about how to survive it. "I can barely keep track of it."

It's all Elle can do not to say, Oh, sweetie, but she knows it would come out totally condescending, which is so not what she wants to be right now. But seriously, it's sad! And she's seen it before. There are always girls struggling to stay au courant. She used to go through this talk with at least half the pledges every year.

"You don't need to," she says. "All you really need to be totally hot — like, I'm talking jaw-dropping, you walk in and everyone wants to be you — is you. And I know that sounds, like, completely cliché, but I am so serious. Fashion changes. Style lasts forever and it's completely individual."

"I wouldn't know where to start with that, either," Sansa admitted, gaze turning briefly towards the rack of clothes as if something might jump out at her and suddenly make it all clear. All she had to go on, though, to form any kind of opinion on all of this, was what other people wore. Mimicking someone else's style was easy enough; she'd done that even before showing up in this place. This, though, was another world entirely. "Where I come from, it's... not at all like this. I'd never seen people dress this way before I got here."

So the girl isn't from Darrow either. Elle's heart goes out to her. If she's from somewhere else, odds are she's navigating this totally alone, and that just isn't right.

She's going to have to adopt her.

"Well, once you get started, it's easy," she promises. "I'm Elle. I'm from Malibu originally. They don't dress like this either mostly, although that's pretty much just because it gets way colder here than in California."

"I don't know Malibu," Sansa said, though she was smiling a little as she said it. Maybe the differences for them weren't on the same scale, but there was a small comfort in knowing that this woman wasn't from Darrow either. She didn't mind all of them, the people who were from here, but they made it a good deal more difficult for her to talk about home and her life before all of this. And, if nothing else, she was certain she'd heard of California before, so she wasn't completely clueless. "But for us, this... All of it would have been indecent."

Elle nods understandingly, although growing up in Malibu means that has never been the case for her. It takes a whole lot to be indecent in Malibu. Or very little.

"Well, let's start there," she decides. "Since you're here and not at home, is this too indecent for you? Like, are you okay with it or do you need something more... modest? Because the very first step is knowing what you're comfortable in."

"This? No, this is alright," Sansa said, nodding a little as she spoke. "It wouldn't have been when I first got here, but it's been two years now. I've started getting used to more things." Mostly, she'd learned how to make what others did work for her. A short skirt wasn't too immodest if worn over tights or leggings, and necklines too low were avoided easily enough. Still, she was relying mostly on guesswork and what she'd seen other people do. Left to her own devices, she was, for the most part, lost.

Still, Elle tells herself, she'll have to keep a close eye to gauge the girl's comfort level. "Okay," she says, "awesome. Wow, two years. You know, it's been almost two years for me, too, and it is so much to get used to, even, like, in general. So in the time you've been here, you must have an outfit you've got that you really like, right? Tell me about it."

"Well, I've... been figuring out how to wear different things together," Sansa said, looking pleased, if a little self-conscious, about that fact. As far as she was concerned, though, it really was something of an accomplishment, when she was largely figuring this out on her own, not wanting to ask any of the girls she knew from school for help. "And I did something that I thought worked out well. A skirt about this long—" She gestured to her knee. "With a sweater and leggings."

"Oh, cute," Elle says. She probably would have said that about nearly anything, admittedly, because she wants to be encouraging, but that is a pretty classic combination. "That's always a great go-to, at least in the colder seasons. And layering is great for creating comfortable, original looks, so you're on a good track here."

"It—" Sansa started, then briefly cut herself off, nose wrinkling slightly. This was more than she usually liked to say, but in the name of someone helping her make sense of this, it couldn't be such a bad thing. Besides, she'd already shared what she mostly had a reason to feel self-conscious about. "It makes it all a little easier to come to terms with. The short skirts and all, I mean."

Elle has always been comfortable in her skin, and when she started wearing her skirts shorter, it never fazed her. Other girls, though, are not so lucky, and this is not the first one she's had to talk to about it. She nods seriously, hand resting on the rack. "You don't have to wear them," she assures her. "Ever. Not unless you want to. If you're not comfortable in them, toss them aside. Real style completely comes from you being happy with what you're wearing. Longer dresses and maxi skirts are becoming increasingly popular, and there's always jeans. How do you feel about jeans?"

"They're alright," Sansa said, the most truthful answer she could give. That women wore trousers here was as strange to her as anything else, possibly even more so, but they also seemed far more decent than skirts that covered barely anything. As far as fitting in went, that was a step she'd been willing to take, even if it didn't quite feel natural to her yet. "I'd never seen anything quite like them before, for men or women, but I have a pair I wear sometimes, and I don't mind them."

Elle nods, thoughtful. It's good she doesn't mind them, but that doesn't mean she's happy in them. Of course, the right blouse and accessories could change that, but it's better to see if they can find something an answer she'll definitely like. "Alright," she says, "so yes to layering, maybe to jeans. Maybe we can find some cute dresses that layer well so they'll still be good when it starts getting colder. I saw some over this way that might suit you."

Sansa had to repress the instinct to ask how she knew when they'd met only moments before, knowing that the question would have been a pointless one. It couldn't have taken much to determine what she would look good in, especially for someone far more familiar with all of this than she was. Half the time, she could only guess, too accustomed, much as she wouldn't have wanted to admit it now, to clothing being made for her. "Alright," she said. "Let's look at them."

With summer heading toward an end, maxi dresses are going on sale, and there's a reason for that. Darrow weather doesn't really allow for that look in winter. In the fall, though, paired with a good jacket and boots, Elle figures it's serviceable. She brings the girl to a rack, glancing back to scrutinize her coloring again and then to the dresses once more. "Sorry," she says after a moment, letting out a little laugh. "Look at me, just dragging you around! I just get so excited about clothes. This blue here would be so pretty on you."

"Oh, it’s alright," Sansa said, laughing just a little at the way the woman had pulled her along. Even coming from a near stranger, there was something kind of nice about it, if only because she’d have never been able to work up this sort of enthusiasm about shopping for clothes herself. With someone else with her, though, maybe she could come to find something enjoyable about it as well, once she got more of a knack for it. Fingers brushing along the dress in question, she asked, "You think so?" It was a nice-looking one, and seemed a bit more her style than a lot else of what she had seen, but it couldn’t hurt to be sure.

Elle gives the dress a good look and the girl too, partially for show. "Positive," she says with a firm nod of her head. "Of course, the only way to be certain is to try it on. Always try things on, trust me. How it feels on you is as important as how it looks." Some of her best clothes are simple as can be. As long as she feels great in them, she knows she looks great too.

"Should I try it on now?" Sansa asked, glancing around in search of the fitting room she knew she'd seen here before. "Or should we see if we can find anything else first?" She was used to doing this somewhat haphazardly, when she did it at all, but she wasn't sure now what might make more sense. If nothing else, though, it at least seemed worth holding on to, the reassurance going a long way towards making her think so.

"Yeah, why not?" Elle says. "Let's see what you think or if my opinion is totally off-base." What she thinks, after all, ultimately isn't as important as the girl's thoughts on the matter. If Elle's taste is out of line, there's no point in dragging her around without knowing how to course correct.

"Alright," Sansa said with a smile. "Though I'm sure it will be fine." She didn't need to really know the woman to trust her judgment on the matter. If nothing else, she certainly seemed to be knowledgeable about all of this, far more so than Sansa was herself, and that was bound to give her a good place to start. "And that's this way?"

Elle nods, stepping in the direction of the dressing room and pointing. "Right through there," she says. She isn't about to follow her in, of course. She always did with the Delta Nus, packing into changing rooms to critique each other's choices and help make decisions, but Darrow just isn't home, not like that was. Instead, she decides she's going to browse the nearby racks. She's still shopping for herself as well, after all.

"I'll be right out," Sansa said, glancing at Elle over her shoulder as she made her way into one of the fitting rooms, dress in tow. With only the one thing to try on, she doubted it would take her long. Changing out of what she was wearing and into the dress did, in fact, go quickly enough; what took a moment was staring at herself in the mirror once she had it on, smoothing a hand over the dress's waist. There were times she almost felt like she couldn't recognize herself, for everything that had happened. That was the case now, but she wasn't sure it was such a bad thing.

There was a small, hesitant smile on her face as she made her way back out again, to where Elle was waiting. "What do you think?"

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