Sandy: Oh! I've... never really gone shopping for clothes that weren't made for the trail. Where, ah, where would we start?

-Sandy crosses her arms, and blushes. She begins to realize where they'll no doubt have to start.-

Sandy: Oh, uh, sure! What sort of... booteeks do they have around here?

-Sandy's face is a blank mask of wut.-

Sandy: ... I have no idea what that means.

Sandy: Oh! So... uh... should we get going? I feel a little odd in clothes several sizes too big for me.

Sandy: Alrighty, then. I think the last booteek I saw was... that way?

-She heads down the street, not terribly sure of herself.-

-Sandy, thankfully, does indeed find the "booteek". She enters it, and...-

Sandy: Hi, is this-

Doorlady: I'm sorry, but we can't accept your business with your... current attire.

-Sandy blinks.-

-The doorlady blinks before bowing profusely.-

Doorlady: Oh, I'm, I'm so sorry, ma'am! Please, come right on in!

-She quickly backpedals, distraught. Sandy blinks.-

Sandy: That was... interesting.

-Sandy looks up at the array of dresses, shirts, and skirts on display. The look on her face is similar to when she last had to translate hieroglyphics.-

-Sandy starts looking through the... more delicate pieces of clothing. She pulls out a rather large cupped bra, brings it to her own chest after a moment. The bra is several cups too large.-

Sandy: ... Is this how women feel inadequate? -_-;

-Sandy sighs as she puts it back. She then starts sorting through the bras, looking at the size tags.-

Sandy: ... I have no idea what size I actually am, minus not being... that size.

-Sandy nods, taking a variety of underwear and heading to the changing room. Within a few seconds, irritated grunts could be heard from inside.-

Sandy: Gah... c'mon... Al... most... grrrr...

Sandy: N-no, it's not that... I... uh...

-She sticks her head out, looking a little dejected.-

Sandy: I... can't get the thing hooked...

-Sandy nods.-

Sandy: Uh... if you could... >_>;