"I think if you weren't wearing that," she made a face at his outfit once more, full on skeptical and ew, gross, bitch face. "I might consider doing you, we'll have to see. Come on, stop fuckin' around, god."
She grabbed his arm again and all but dragged him into the nearest thrift store on the stretch of street they were strolling down. Tabby was in heaven. Thrift stores were just as good as high end because sometimes high end shit ended up on the racks for like, almost nothing. She started shifting through racks of shirts at once with the speed of a shopping pro.
"What sizes do you wear? We are so not doing orange for you. Like maybe greens, yeah, totally green, that'll be bitchin'."