Cludig prods through some of the clothing with an unsure look upon her face. She would much rather patch up her increasingly more raggedy garments, but there wasn't the time. It would be faster for her to just guess how to wear half of these odd scraps.

"My cloth bits are doomed, but at least I can glamor the rest." She mumbles in a resigned sigh."

Grabbing an ugly saffron chemise she sniffs it carefully. It smells a might to laundered in floral soaps, but still has enough stable odor to be acceptable. With little to no warning she immediately starts to cut off her knotted bodice.