The backroom was Rhiannon's work room, and there were racks and racks of clothes lining the walls in a sort of never-ending closet that went all the way around the room, manequin's draped in outfits yet to be tweaked, and boxes with shoes.
"Now the shoes I don't make," she said as she walked past a tall stack. "That's one of my associates, but we sort of share and share alike. Ahhh, here we are. Jackets. Black too, or perhaps a different color to brighten it up?"