Re: [Pyxis]
[There is the gentle sound of a shuttle moving through taut thread, and as the memory settles deep, your eyes open to the familiar garments of your kin on both yourself and those around you, dyed proud and bright.
City wear, for sure, but always practical. Short-sleeved collared shirts of fine threaded, plain-woven panna, closed with buttons of polished marwok bone. Trousers of good cort on the menfolk, and knee-high, pleated skirts of the same for the ladies; above the knee or not, ain't no one who'd call it indecent to a lass's face. Not one who didn't want an up-close view of the clan's favourite glove design: fingers free for delicate work, palms and knuckles guarded under the same slick leather as the jackets that covered their arms, collared v-necks more often than not hanging loose and open, for all that there's always tough wire hooks and eyes to close them.
Could always tell a Pyxis most by their feet, though. High socks on the ladyfolk, sure, short on the men. But the real sign was over those. Boots of [badgercrock] hide, always, thick-soled and lacing up their ankles. Business shoes, those—not that business never came with a bit of pleasure.]