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Arthur looked in the mirror. Gone was the slouching coder. In his place stood a man who looked like he could negotiate a treaty between warring suns. He tapped his credit chip against the counter without even checking the price.

The tailor pulled a charcoal-grey blazer from a velvet hanger. It looked ordinary, but as Arthur slipped it on, the fabric hummed. The shoulders didn't just fit; they adjusted to his posture, making him stand two inches taller. The lapels were lined with a subtle, iridescent thread that caught the light like a dying star. buy blazer jacket

He ducked into "The Alchemist’s Tailor," a shop that smelled of cedar and old magic. The tailor, a man whose glasses had seventeen different lenses, didn’t ask for Arthur’s size. Instead, he asked, "What do you wish to command?" "I just want to look like I belong," Arthur muttered. Arthur looked in the mirror