As much as she hated asking for directions from what proved to be a human trafficker, Aloe was in dire need of clothing. And only the truest epitome of garbage would give a lady the wrong direction to a tailor.

Even if the top hat man's directions were quite clear, it took her and Xochipilli a bit of help from the locals as Selen had become quite the maze. It didn't help at all that you couldn't see the horizon with these tall buildings in every cardinal direction.

The sun was almost setting when they finally found their destination. The façade of the shop was quite fancy, and when Aloe swung the glass door open, they were greeted by a bell.

"Welcome to Omar's Fineries, how can I help you?" A man way back on the other side of the shop announced.

"Greetings," Aloe announced. "I would like to get a dress and maybe…"

"Oh, great heavens!" The man, who she could only guess was Omar by the multiple tailoring tools all over his body, screamed and rushed over her. "What's all of this? How's a lady as dazzling as you wearing such rags? Blasphemy I say!"

"Like I was saying…" Aloe spoke again if a bit weirded out. "I would like a dress as I have had some… complications."

"Well, if you want some ready-made dresses you could go to Nasir's shop down the street. All the products he sells are defective, but cheap only a few drupnars, like… those things." She pointed all around her body.

"I have been sent here as I have quite the disposable income."

"Do you, now?" Omar crossed his arms in doubt.

What's wrong with this man? One moment his praising my beauty and the next one he's looking at me like a beggar… I mean, I do look like one but come on!

Aloe sighed. "Xochipilli, show him."

At her orders, Xochipilli took out the wad of bills. All five thousand of them.

"Ehem," the tailor cleared his throat. "That is quite indeed the disposable income. I could offer you a bespoke dress, but such commissions take time… and it would seem you need one now. Do you really want to spend this much?" He eyed the bills with uncertainty.

"Quite," she nodded. "Not only do I need a dress, but also undergarments, spare clothing, and also something for him."

"I'm afraid I don't sell clothing appropriate for… cocoas." The sheer hesitation in his words told Aloe that was supposed to be an insult directed at Xochipilli.

Because the child himself failed to react, mostly being subservient, was the only reason why Aloe didn't attack the tailor on sight. Though her fingers were itching for a bit of a rustle.

"I will tell myself what is appropriate and what is not, thank you very much," Aloe added with a scowl.

"B-but of course," Omar stuttered, not out of intimidation, but at the prospect of losing a customer. It was clear in his eyes. "I will need to take your measurements and those of the… child. If you would accompany me."

Omar started with Xochipilli, and careful to not lay a hand on his skin, he swiftly took the sizes with a measuring tape.

"I have some trousers and shirts of his size already, all of the quality and expected of a child of an upper-class family, by all means." He explained.

"That will be more than enough," Aloe nodded.

She didn't intend to expend a lot of money on Xochipilli's clothing, to begin with. Not because she was being stingy, but because a growing child like him would quickly outgrow his clothes. That would be a misuse of their limited money.

"Now, if you excuse me," Omar started taking her sizes.

At first, Aloe pondered if she should change her body shape, but if she intended to interact with people, glamour was the way to go. If she wanted clothing for other forms, she would make do with simple clothing. As stated by the tailor and by what she had seen on the streets, clothing was far more common in this… age.

Heavens, I still don't grow used to the fact that I'm… bicentennial. Oh, that sounds so bad…

The vegetable woman was snapped out of her deprecating thoughts as she felt the pressure of Omar's touch on her bottom.

"Excuse me?" She voiced out.

"Oh, great heavens, I must apologize. My hand slipped as I was measuring your hips…" There was a slight blush on the man's face, but it wasn't the flush of shame from a person who had made a mistake, but that of lust.

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"No problem," Aloe smiled at him. "Just take into account that if you do that again you are dead." She uttered casually with the greatest of smiles boosted by her glamour.

The man blinked thrice before his mind processed the dissonance between her words and her expression.

"I-I wouldn't have it otherwise…" He chuckled and finished taking her measures.

Sexual assault notwithstanding, the man proved quite proficient in his job as he took the sizes and started guiding them across the shop to show them the available attires. It helped that Aloe could smell his cold sweat, which prevented her from hacking the man on the spot.

"For your generous budget and sizes, I have the following dresses available." She expected him to show some clothes like the ones that were on display, but Aloe was dumbfounded by what she saw next.

Omar opened a sliding wooden door to reveal a curious contraption where many sets of attire rested at. With a pull of a rope, the contraption moved and rotated, changing the dresses on display. The shelf where the dresses were at moved upwards and a new shelf with more dresses was pulled up.

"Without any egregious modifications, these five dresses are the only ones meeting all your criteria." The tailor pointed at the piles of clothing on display.

That was the only way to describe them, piles of clothing. Aloe had become aware how some rich-looking women wore stuffy dresses, and whilst it had weirded it out at first as they would get an insolation that way, she soon realized that the climate was more humid, and the temperatures lower compared to what she had previously experimented in Selen.

Two hundred years ago.

She would never that get out of her head.

But there was still a problem with those dresses beyond how hot they might be.

"All the dresses are gorgeous and such," some looked more like gowns than day dresses, but she didn't comment on that, "but what about the weight? They seem very heavy to move around."

Sure, weight was a triviality for her, but how normal women were able to wear them was gnawing on her mind.

"These lovely pieces have been confected with the utmost quality of Cottonpull, so they are quite lighter than they seem."

The vegetable woman's brain disconnected, and she started hearing a buzzing sound in her ears as if she was suffering from tinnitus.

"What?" That was the only word she was able to manage out of her lips.

"Yes, indeed, the material allows for quite mobile pieces regardless of their size." Omar continued talking, unbeknownst of the panic going on in the cultivator's mind.

"Could you repeat that?" Even if her voice didn't tremble thanks to her internal infusion, she felt incredibly sick.

"That these are mobile pieces?" Omar said with a raised eyebrow and slight confusion.

"No, before that. About the material."

"About how they are made with Cottonpull?"

"Cottonpull," Aloe reiterated.

"Cottonpull," Omar confirmed.

Suddenly, a lot of things started making sense.

Aloe took a deep breath and acted as if nothing was wrong. Why are you even surprised, tens if not hundreds of cotton balls escaped all over the ye-centuries, surely one was going to make it out and get planted. Such is the… cycle of nature.

In foresight, it was obvious that it would happen. She herself had predicted the uses of Cottonpull in the textile industry centuries ago. A textile that negated weight was a valuable resource, it was only that she hadn't had the tools to exploit that on her little hole.

"Which dress would you recommend me?" Aloe said if only to break the growing silence.

"I assume you would like to have a day dress," she nodded at the tailor's words. "This golden gown is a gala dress so I would discard it immediately. This red velvet dress is meant for night parties and can get very hot, so I would recommend against it, but it can be used as a day dress. As such, I would recommend either of the last three dresses."

The remaining dresses were outright pieces of art. The intricate craftmanship was obvious even to an untrained eye, but the quality was outstanding, nonetheless. Aloe wasn't particularly fond of the bell skirts of all the dresses, but mobility wouldn't be an issue in any case, especially now that she knew the truth behind the material.

The first one was a white one with many frills that was accompanied by a wide-brimmed hat with flowery decorations on top. It was a lovely piece, but unfortunately, that much whiteness made her sick. It would be a nightmare to wash.

"How are these dresses supposed to be washed?" She questioned the tailor.

"There are linen underlayers to separate the skin and the dress, those are the ones that need to be washed. But in the case, the dress itself was to be soiled, then it would be like washing common cotton."

So, suffering incarnate? Aloe kept her thoughts to herself. Washing cotton clothing was not something she was looking forward to.

The second dress wasn't as overdecorated as the others and it had a soothing cream and beige color, with some bronze accents. She preferred it more than the white one, but the chest… That piece highlighted the bosom too much for her liking. She had been very conscious of her size since she was little, but she was now for the complete opposite reasons. Glamour made her a vixen, and that accent on the dress would attract too many unwanted gazes.

The third dress, though, was perfect. Not as complex as the white one, and not as… outrageous as the cream dress. It had some laces and frills over the chest area and the skirt – she still wasn't ecstatic about the bell skirt – but they didn't feel oppressive like on the other ones. And beyond all else, the color bewitched her.

Soft green dyed cotton cloth.

"Can I try that one?" Aloe pointed at the green dress.

"Excellent choice," Omar nodded and walked to the mannequin. "Not only the soft green will compliment your gorgeous emerald eyes, but this one also has a special piece." He picked up a stick behind the mannequin, and with a soft click, the stick unfurled. "A matching frilled parasol."

"Oh," she had seen women on the streets with those 'parsols' before, but this one looked like on a whole other level. "Yes, I want this one."

"Let me guide you to the changing room then before I bring the dress."

"One thing first though," Aloe interrupted him. "I would need some undergarments first."

"Of course, we should then…" His voice died out as a doubt visually appeared on his visage, he flayed his fingers around a bit as if he remembered a sensation. "Are you not wearing anythi…"

"I would need a matching set," she interjected dryly.

"I… of course," Omar bowed with a bed of sweat forming on his forehead. "What would it be? Pieces like chemise, corset, and petticoats are included, but you would need a set for your legs and your lingerie. I'd recommend stockings for the legs, though pantyhose is also an option. As for the unmentionables, the option would be completely yours. Bloomers, lace, drawers?"

Aloe failed to understand one single word of the ones Omar had just uttered.

"I'll trust your judgment." The vegetable woman responded noncommittally as she was unsure what the right answer would be.