Hildegarde was dressed in a mishmash of styles, culled from a selection of poor quality films from the late twentieth century. The resultant creation of her overly analytical work was gothic-punk fusion of fishnets, leather, khol and spikes.
"You look terrible and underdressed." Hildegarde replied. She had at least spent some time researching the dress code of the underground youth fringe. Her eyes ran over the individual in the baggy urban threads but once. There was a far more interesting pierced freak just behind them.
Dude. You're killing it. I'm laughing my ass off