2012-11-18 Make It Work

Every now and again, some student or faculty manages to volunteer Logan to teach special life skills workshops during the weekend. He has yet to figure out who's responsible, but given his otherwise light teaching load, he always sucks it up and bears the burden when it comes; odds are, it's less harrowing than whatever else he might have done on that given Saturday anyway. Last time around, it was Classic French Cuisine--

SOME TIME AGO

"Just remember: you want to be /careful/ with these," Logan calmly says to a kitchen full of dumbfounded students as he uses a claw to shave black truffle over a perfectly cooked omelette. A platter of steak tartar, cups of consumme, and an apple tart - the subjects of the day's other demonstrations - are resting on a counter within easy reach of the students. "This right here's a couple hundred bucks, easy; them French, they got a hell of a racket goin', you ask me."

NOW

This time around, it's Fashion For Young Men; when he caught wind of it, the first thing he did was hunt down Warren and Sam for a trip into the city--Warren for his perceived experience in matters of fashion, and Sam to provide a more down to earth perspective.

After some time spent driving - and even more spent trapped in Manhattan traffic - the group is finally approaching a Brooks Brothers on the Upper West Side. Logan is wearing a pea-green bomber jacket with a lining of beige down peeking up from the collar, a pair of old blue jeans, and a plain white t-shirt; he fishes a wad of wrinkled bills from the jacket and waves them around a little as they close in on the doors.

"Got a pretty good budget for this thing," he informs the pair. "Buncha heroin smugglers decided to donate the other night; very generous of 'em."

Sam sees how it is. If Logan has to suffer, Sam has to suffer. Of course, he did manage to skip this one workshop back when he was (briefly) a student. Looking down at himself, he wonders if maybe he isn't the reason they have this workshop, now that he thinks about it. He always looks like he fell off a turnip truck--as someone put it so tactfully--on his days off. Oh well.

"It's amazing who's willing to give to a good cause these days," Sam says mildly, stepping ahead to open the doors. Logan reminds him so much of Laura, it's unnerving. He's used to it now, though.

Since Warren has been pronounced 'fully recovered' from his coma, he went back to his loft in the city. When Logan mentioned the purpose for the outing, he agreed to help...once he got done laughing, of course. Meeting the others at the shop, he's dressed 'casually', which for him are designer jeans, a light sweater under a blazer, both expertly tailored to accomodate his wings, and a cashmere scarf against the chill in the air. Maybe because it's a 'fashion' trip, but he's also added a retro-style fedora.

When the other two arrive and Logan explains the state of his funds, he asks, "So...who are we shopping for and exactly how much do you have? I mean, that's going to depend on where we go..." he glances to Brooks Brothers, "And what style we're going for."

"Dunno," is Logan's non-chalant response to--well, all of Warren's questions, actually. If it were up to him, he'd give the boys a five minute lesson on the proper care of denim, set out a bunch of random stuff from Target to bolster their wardrobes, and let them figure it out from there; surely, they're smart enough to figure it out for themselves.

As he steps inside, though, he takes a passing look at Sam, and his ambivalence is forgotten; maybe there /is/ something to this idea.

He does at least offer the money over to Warren to let him count it, if he wants; there's easily a few thousand there. "Figure it's enough to get a bunch'a kids some blazers, or somethin'; might be a good start for 'em."

"I think Jean just doesn't want 'em going out like me," Sam says, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking around like a tourist. The turtleneck he's wearing under his plaid shirt doesn't really suit him but he's not going to wear T-shirts the way he used to. "That's why I pick jobs with uniforms. I don't have to think about any thing like clothes. Maybe I should let Warren fill my wardrobe."

He looks at Logan and shrugs. "No one else in my life has much of a fashion sense. I don't think you can teach this kind of thing. I think you have to grow up with it." He doesn't own a suit, never has, not even for church. Well, he had one for Pa's funeral, but that doesn't count. He never wore that one again.

Warren takes the money and counts it, discreetly, before he hands it back to Logan -- he can probably protect it better than any of them if need be. "So, wait. We're buying things for guys we don't know? Do you have their sizes? I mean, just buying things and hoping that they sort of fit is kind of going to defeat the purpose, I think. The point is to look put-together and respectable, right? Not that everyone needs hand-tailored Italian suits, but fit is still important." He looks over to Sam and looks him up and down quickly, "You could illustrate the differences with Sam here...we can take pictures as he tries things on..." he then looks back to Logan, "You might be better off getting them gift cards to use in these stores."

He takes another glance around Brooks Brothers, "You know...the money might go further and be a little less of a shock at something like J. Crew." Looking back at Sam, he arches an eyebrow, "You don't dress horribly. At least your pants aren't around your knees and you're not wearing a sports jersey."

"Yeah," Logan mutters, pausing beside an overcoat to squint at its exorbitant price tag. "Probably." He has names, but no sizes; another man with senses as acute as his could probably approximate a set of fairly usable measurements, given those names, but Logan is - perhaps /was/, given these prices - ready to wing it and worry about alterations later. "Gotta be /somethin'/ reasonable in here," he grumbles as he lets go of the tag. "T-shirts, socks..."

After a moment of idly glancing around, Logan actually spots a display with dozens of different socks for shoppers to peruse; he slowly frowns.

"Christ." After a heavy sigh and quick headshake, he turns towards Sam, reaches up and lays a strong, hair-covered hand on the eldest Guthrie's shoulder.

"Alright, kid," he begins in a low, even voice, "Sam; how photogenic you feelin' today?" The sometimes savage X-Man's eyes shift towards Warren momentarily, and then as they fix on Sam, he adds "Might as well get /somethin'/ useful outta these crooks, while we're here, eh? 's a six pack in it for ya."

"Photogenic?" Sam tilts his head and looks down at Logan, somehow managing to give him the puppy look from a whole foot taller. "Whatever you need, man. I'm just here because... well." Jean wants something done, that's why Sam's here. He may be a grown man, but Jean is scary. Scarier than M.O.D.O.K. kind of scary. "You know how it is. If you need sizes for the kids, tell me which ones." Sam's good at dressing kids, he's just good at dressing them from the Goodwill, or maybe Wal*Mart, if he has the time to drive for hours to get there.

Warren also looks about, but...this is a bit too conservative for even him. He doesn't bother looking at price tags but he does finally turn to the two, his wings narrowly missing a neatly-folded table of cashmere sweaters, "Might it be...more useful to show these kids how they can dress well...and still afford it? I mean, for one, I don't think that this is the style for Sam so finding something might be hard. Secondly, it might be showing these kids that you have to have oodles of money in order to dress decently and that's just not true. Then you can give the guys gift-cards. If they spend it inappropriately, well...clothes can be returned."

'Not the style for Sam'? Logan gives the farm boy a critical onceover, going so far as to lean a few inches closer as he looks Sam over through his narrowed eyes. Eventually - when he's seen whatever it is he needs to - he backs away with a small shrug and turns to head for the door.

"You're the expert," he offers as he sticks his hands back into his pockets. Along the way, he rattles off a list of a half a dozen or so ames - either first or last, never both. It's a pretty varied cross-section of male students; one of them has a few extra limbs to contend with, but that, too, is just a matter of proper tailoring, Logan figures.

"Your guess is as good as mine on any'a this stuff survivin' the month they get it, anyway," he remarks once the list is given. "Might not be a lotta returnin' to do, when it's all said and done."

"I don't have a style. So. If you want me to try something on, that's cool. I'll do it." Sam thinks about the names for a moment as they wander toward the door. "Sizes don't always work. You have to just know the actual shape of the kid. Every kid is different. A couple of them need decent sport coats, shirts, ties, right? The others: jeans and stuff? Jean just wants them to all look nice, know how to put themselves together. They're mostly close to the same size. We pick them up some things and then let them dress themselves, see how they do. You're in charge here." He waves vaguely at Logan. "Just tell me what you want and I'll put it together."

Warren quickly catches up to Logan as he leaves the store, "So then go shopping with them. Make sure they're spending the cards on appropriate things...like on those makeover shows." Before he gets made fun of, he points out, "My mother watches them." He shuts up about that now. Right, time to focus on Sam. He nods as Sam explains how Jean wants the kids to dress, "Well, Jeans are a given. Not ripped jeans and not jeans that are hanging at their knees. Jeans that fit and are nice...you can wear jeans almost anywhere." He's wearing them now, actually. "A sportcoat, tie, dress shirt, and khakis can also be worn everywhere." He then looks between the two, "Can...you get those at Target?" He's never stepped foot in one.

"'course she does," Logan murmurs with a sidelong glance at Warren. After a small shake of his head, he adds, "Probably; wouldn't really know." The last time he was in a Target, he didn't have a chance to make it to the clothing section.

Possibly beacuse he was fighting a KOBRA cell that was using the store for cover.

"Pretty big place, though, lots of variety; found myself a camp stove and some other stuff, last time I was in one. I don't think some teenage boy clothes are gonna be a stretch for 'em; might as well make a list, give the kids a copy, let 'em do what they're gonna do." He then tips his head towards Sam a little and adds, "Good pair of shoes wouldn't hurt 'em any either, if we're makin' a list. Boots'd be even better; never know when a good pair'a boots is gonna come in handy."

Sam always wears boots. Never know what you're going to step in. "No offense, but. How did /you/ get saddled with this?" he asks Logan. "Target will have some of it. There's a few other places to check for the boots and stuff. Online, too." Sam may not dress himself that well, may be oblivious, in fact, but if he has to think about dressing the *kids*, he can manage. "Younger kids need good sneakers. Better still, they should be barefoot, but this is the city. Older kids, boots aren't a bad idea, but they'll want stuff like skate shoes." He tugs at his shirt collar. Overdressed. This is a pain, covering up.

"Here." Sam stops and takes some photographs of the displays in the window. "They need to dress themselves. So we make them do the work. Get magazines for them to read. Give them pictures from stores like this. Give them a budget. Take 'em on a tour of Warren's closet, whatever. Set 'em loose. Also, make Scott come along. Guy makes me feel like I can dress."

Warren just sort of blinks at Logan as he starts talking about camp stoves and workboots. "You can't wear boots with a sportcoat and khakis. You need dress shoes. Boots...ok...I guess. Sneakers, yes. They're kids. Kids wear sneakers and run around in them." He also nods as Sam starts taking pictures and suggests having them do the work. "Let them show some of their personality. I...if you want them to tour my closet, all right, I guess, but it's -my- closet. It's...well, it's not what everyone's closet should necessarily be like." It's his nicer way of saying 'most can't afford what's in my closet'.

Logan's eyes drift towards a mannequin showing off a sweater vest and a bowtie as Scott is mentioned. "I guess," he mutters after an amused snort. "If you can pry 'im away from his busy schedule, he's as welcome as anyone." With that, he turns his attention fully to Sam and shrugs a shoulder. "Checked the bulletin board; saw there was a workshop. Saw I was teachin' it; happens now and again." Before Classic French Cuisine, it was Gardening, and Logan spent three hours teaching a group of students how to trim a bonsai tree; before that, sewing.

Unfortunately for /those/ students, Logan was just getting back from a mission in Japan when the workshop started; the demos were as frightening as they were practical.

"Couldn't give you much of a 'why' past that." Glancing towards Warren, he adds, "Either way, I appreciate the advice; I'm sure they'll appreciate it too."

"Gotta have something to work for," Sam says, shrugging at Warren. "The kind of education most of the kids are getting, the schools they'll end up going to, they need to be able to dress more like Warren than like me or Logan. Again, no offense, Logan. But I really hope that most of them need to dress better than a standard issue uniform." He checks something on his phone. "There's this... Pin thingie. It's a web application. Girls use it for fashion stuff, there's probably men's fashion on there as well."

Warren shoves his hands in the pockets of his own blazer as he walks along with the others, deep in thought for a moment or two. "Would it help if I came in and spoke to them first? Explaining some? Then we can take them shopping? I mean, just telling them 'you need to dress better and we're going to give you the money to do it' could be seen as a little patronizing. But I understand the reasoning. I just wonder if having an open talk about it might be something to start with rather than taking them to the store and saying 'Get respectable clothes'?"