Chapter 217
Chapter 217
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 217
Chapter Title: The Children's Fashion Frenzy
-----------------------------------------------------------------
When we showed the designs—painstakingly hammered out by three nobles and one member of the imperial family—to the noble lady who had come with her daughter.
The reaction I got from that noble lady was incredibly concise.
“......”
She glanced at her own daughter, who was beaming from ear to ear and swinging her legs, then peeked at the design sketched on the paper.
“Cute...”
A short mumble escaped her lips as she slipped into her own little fantasy.
Right now, in that noble lady's mind, a vivid image was forming of her daughter lively prancing through the garden in that outfit.
“Howard Baron?”
After about a minute of that brief reverie, the noble lady's decision was as concise as it was decisive.
“Yes, ma'am?”
“Could I possibly have all of these...?”
From this one over here all the way to that one there.
If we had plenty of stock on hand, I would've grinned and shouted that one was on the house as a service.
“I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that's not possible.”
“Oh...”
“We want to give as many customers as possible a chance to experience our clothing, so we'd appreciate it if you could commission just one this time.”
Unfortunately, since these were custom orders, I made my refusal clear with a slight bow of my head—but you always hear people out to the end.
“That said, it wouldn't be right to send away someone who loves our clothes this much without anything at all.”
I pulled a business card from the corner of the table, scrawled my signature on the back, and smoothly handed it to the lady.
“What's this?”
“Bring that back after some time has passed, and we'll prioritize any commission you request.”
“Oh my...”
She let out an impressed gasp, lightly covering her lips, then discreetly pocketed the card and passed it to her attendant.
Then, with a serious expression, she scrutinized the sketches, starting the process of choosing one outfit out of the four for her daughter.
“Hmm...”
Her brow furrowed and relaxed repeatedly amid vague groans as her eyes darted busily.
Just when it seemed like her gaze had settled on one spot, her pupils would waver and shift sideways; then, as it locked again, she'd lightly bite her lip and roll her eyes for several minutes.
“Having to pick just one... I have no idea what to choose...”
After agonizing long and hard without reaching a decision, the lady glanced at me with a crestfallen voice and murmured softly.
“Haha...”
Normally, I'd have told her to take her time, but seeing this noble lady—still only in her mid-twenties—looking so dejected felt a bit unsettling.
It reminded me of Dorothy, or even my sister-in-law, which softened my heart for no good reason.
“Sigh...”
Oh well, can't be helped.
Her reaction was so spot-on that I figured I'd throw in a big service discount.
“Does your young lady have a white dress at the estate?”
“Yes, we have something like that.”
“In that case, if you have a large checkered apron that covers up to the hips and chest, you could achieve a similar look without us making it.”
“...!”
Her eyes widened in surprise at my tip for replicating the vibe on her own.
“Thank you for the advice.”
“No trouble at all.”
The lady bowed her head with genuine gratitude toward me for helping her even at my own expense.
These outfits were easy for others to copy anyway, so once they caught on, the patterns would get ripped off quick. It was all about building goodwill, but I just shrugged and played it cool.
“If you're truly grateful, then show off the clothes I make to everyone around you. Tell them even a 5-year-old young lady can look this cute and pretty.”
“I'll keep that in mind.”
I chuckled softly as the lady nodded earnestly, then moved my finger to point at the dress designed by Herbert Young Lord.
“Next, as for this one, you'd want to save it for when your young lady has grown a bit more—like around 8 years old.”
“8 years old... Yes, it would suit a taller child better.”
“Exactly.”
I shifted my finger to the dress I'd designed, flashing a confident smile as I spoke.
“So, if you have to pick one right now, I recommend this dress.”
It had ended up with me pushing my own design, but it wasn't like I was sabotaging the others.
For ambiguous ages, the Alice dress was the safe bet.
If the girl had been around 7, I'd have recommended Herbert Young Lord's instead.
That's when formal etiquette training really kicks in, so it's time to transition to slightly more proper attire.
“I see...”
The lady nodded as if she understood, but she still couldn't tear her eyes away from the coat designed by Panny Lady.
“In that case, this one looks plenty pretty too. Is there a reason you're recommending the dress over it?”
“This one's different from the other three—it's an outer coat. With the right fabric, it could work in summer, but it's best made with thick, fleece-lined material for winter.”
Pretty clothes look good anytime, but they're prettiest when worn in the right season.
Spring and fall may have similar temperatures, but we adjust colors and vibes for each—what's the point otherwise?
You can't ignore the unique atmosphere each season brings.
“Hmm...”
She seemed to get it, but her lingering attachment wasn't fading easily—her gaze stayed glued to the coat.
Oh well, time for the big guns then.
“In that case, ma'am, try imagining this.”
“Imagining?”
“A day with snow falling thick and heavy. Your young lady bundled in a pure white coat and scarf, white knit stockings on her legs, frolicking through the snow with a bright, innocent laugh.”
“...!”
If plain talk about winter wouldn't shake her reluctance, paint a specific, appealing picture to turn it into eager anticipation for the future.
“A snowflake lands on the coat with a soft plop, melting into a droplet that catches the winter sun's gentle light, making your young lady sparkle.”
“Ah...”
I spoke slowly and deliberately, giving her plenty of time to visualize, while closely watching her expression melt away.
“A puppy bounding alongside her, or her sitting in a carriage hugging a black cat, or strolling by a frozen lake with her nose all red from the cold...”
After piling on enough examples, I trailed off and paused, letting those images sink deep into her mind.
“How's that?”
“I want to see it... so badly.”
“Right?”
Done deal.
The pitch that she'd get to see her daughter looking amazing if she just held out a little longer was devastatingly effective—no need for long explanations; a few sentences wiped away her hesitation.
“Wouldn't she look her absolute most beautiful in a perfectly fitted one tailored to her grown-up measurements?”
“Yes...”
“So go with this dress for now, and visit us again when winter nears. We'll make her the perfect coat then.”
“Got it. We'll take that one.”
“Yes, Emily?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Having nailed the dramatic compromise, I beckoned Emily from behind me and turned my gaze to the innocent little girl sitting beside the lady.
“Help take our little lady's measurements, please.”
“Right away.”
One loyal customer secured.
_
What I'd dared to predict when making kids' clothes was that if the noble ladies liked them, word would spread like wildfire, sparking a frenzy among mothers with young children.
They might be nobles upholding dignity, but parents are parents at heart.
They all want their own child to be the cutest, the one who shines brightest— their competitive spirits would ignite like an explosion, plain as day.
“Can we commission boys' clothes too?”
“Yes, but it would take a month to deliver. Is that alright?”
“Yes.”
Customers poured in regardless of sons or daughters, filling our order books solid in less than a week.
Even with simple undergarments handed off to the kid tailors, and the remaining four tailors churning out one outfit per day on rotation, we were still swamped.
We'd banned overwork and were spacing out orders with some buffer, but thirty kids' outfits piling up? That was pure, insane popularity.
We even scrapped plans for paid ads amid the ladies' hot reactions and revised our strategy: instead of holding designs for a couple quarters, we'd milk the hype for a month or two then flood the market.
Otherwise, we really couldn't handle it.
Still, up to this point, it was just faster than expected—nothing too shocking.
It just pained me that these blood-and-sweat kids had to go independent so soon.
But even so, there was one—no, several things I hadn't anticipated: the world has way more bold challengers than I thought.
“Can I commission now? Time doesn't matter.”
“What kind of outfit did you have in mind?”
“I heard your atelier has some popular new clothes lately—dresses for kids?”
“Ah, yes, that's right. Is that what you're after?”
“It is.”
“How old is the young lady it'll be made for?”
“14.”
“4?”
“14.”
“...?”
People like this guy right here, who see their kids—who are staring down puberty—through rose-tinted glasses, utter daughter-doters.