"I'll work on it," she deadpanned and raised her eyebrows to follow and sit down. "It looks like clothes," Wanda answered, and shrugged. As someone who liked her ripped stockings and putting together odds and ends to make a thrift store wardrobe, Wanda was hardly the person to ask. That wasn't the answer he was looking for, though, so she leaned forward to gather the clothes into her lap and examine them, reflexively smoothing out wrinkles from where they'd been temporarily heaped. "They're very nice but I don't think the color of the shirt goes with the rest." Or maybe it did, but it wasn't a very interesting choice. "You could go brighter."