I became a clothing designer in another world

[Revolution of Textile Machinery! Productivity More Than Doubles with the Improvement of Magic Engines…]

[Huh?]

When I was a child.

The first time I attended a banquet and was shocked by the sight of the hourglass brigade, I came across an article in the newspaper and made a grand plan.

A plan to change these hideous clothes myself.

To achieve this, I learned sewing and even made a few clothes myself, but in the end, I gave up on that idea.

It wasn’t because the results were bad.

There were some clumsy parts, but overall, I was satisfied.

I realized I had a talent for design and sewing and knew that with a little more practice, I could make even better clothes.

But I was scared.

Of societal judgment and the church.

I didn’t want to get arrested for public indecency.

So, I gave up.

I convinced myself that, with time, I and my tastes would change.

[Are you impotent?]

“Damn it.”

But after hearing my mother’s words at the banquet, I spent days in deep thought.

I came to the undeniable realization that my tastes hadn’t changed at all and that my lukewarm attitude toward clothes, which I found unpleasant, had only made people’s perceptions of me worse.

As a result, I understood that I could no longer afford to wait optimistically and that a drastic change was necessary.

Can I change myself?

Honestly, I’m not confident.

If I could, I wouldn’t be in this situation now.

“…”

I opened the drawer.

A box, coated in dust from years of neglect, emerged.

It was my sewing tools, hidden away when I abandoned my plans but kept because I couldn’t let go entirely.

This might be my last chance.

If I miss this moment, I’ll probably end up going along with whatever matches my mother or father set up for me and getting married.

I really don’t want that.

I placed the box on the desk.

If I can’t change myself, and I hate the current situation, then I’ll change the environment.

I’ll transform the clothes I despise, the ones I can’t stand to look at.

The plan I had dreamed of for so long, the one I gave up on because of the harsh realities of the world.

It’s time to make it a reality.

Societal judgment? The church-led order?

I don’t care about any of that anymore.

If I have to keep staring at hourglasses, I’d rather burn brightly, doing what I want, and go out in a blaze of martyrdom.

“Hah…”

I let out a sigh and opened the box.

To clear the misunderstandings about being impotent or gay, I was fully prepared to accept the infamous label of ‘pervert.’

_

Even though I’d resolved to embrace being called a pervert, I wasn’t planning to start by making bunny suits or miniskirts.

I had no desire to bask in the church’s ‘warm’ love (more like fiery wrath), and even if I did make such clothes, who would wear them?

You have to start with something less shocking, something easier to accept, so that bolder designs later on won’t be met with resistance.

If I couldn’t even see someone wear what I made before I died, it would be meaningless. So, it was best to begin with something I liked that wasn’t too flashy.

Luckily, I had the perfect idea for a piece of clothing, something that didn’t exist here yet but would be easy to accept. Skipping my meal, I dove straight into the design process.

-Screeeak…

As I carefully drew lines on the paper, transferring the image in my mind, the sound of a door hinge echoed, and the door opened.

I’d been happily focused, but with just that one sound, my concentration crumbled like a sandcastle.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Young Master.”

Without looking away from the paper, I continued moving my pen and called out in an annoyed tone. A soft yet clear voice answered, calling my name.

“Ah!”

The familiar, welcoming voice I had been waiting for.

I immediately put down my pen and turned around to see a half-asleep-looking maid standing at the door, holding a basket almost as big as her torso.

“Emily, you’re here?”

“Yes, Young Master. I’ve brought the items you requested earlier today.”

“Thanks. Could you set the basket down here beside me?”

“Of course.”

Emily nodded lightly and stepped closer with small, deliberate steps. The basket seemed heavy, and her wobbly movements made her resemble a penguin, adorable.

Watching her fondly, I smiled as Emily approached the desk and placed the basket down. Then, placing her hands on her hips, she gave me a stern look.

“Young Master, may I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

Emily pointed her slender finger toward the fabric in the basket.

“Why did you suddenly ask me to bring fabric?”

“Because I’m going to make clothes, of course.”

Emily frowned.

“You said the exact same thing when you were a child, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“And after a few years of studying, you gave up, right?”

“That’s true as well.”

“And now, you’re saying you’ll make clothes again…?”

“Yup, this time it’s different.”

“You always say that.”

Emily replied sarcastically, fixing her gaze on me with eyes full of suspicion.

“Young Master, do you have any idea how worried the Madam is about you? Lately, she’s been asking me to take good care of you.”

“Really? She’s been nagging me a lot too.”

“What? And you’re still acting like this?”

“I’m acting this way because I know.”

Since Mother is concerned about my lack of social skills and relationships, I’m addressing the issue by fixing the problematic clothing around me.

It’s a perfectly reasonable and logical conclusion. I don’t see what the problem is.

“Sigh…”

As I stared at Emily’s sharp gaze with wide eyes, she let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes briefly.

Emily probably knew better than anyone that once I set my mind to something, I wouldn’t back down, and she seemed to realize that arguing further would only be a waste of time.

“Is there anything else you need me to do?”

Her voice, drained of energy, suggested she wanted to finish her tasks and leave as soon as possible. She placed her left hand on her forehead, looking resigned.

“Then, could you come closer?”

“Sure.”

Emily shuffled her feet reluctantly, stopping just close enough for me to reach her with an outstretched hand.

“While you’re at it, could you stand at attention?”

“…?”

Emily gave me a puzzled look but moved her hands from her hips to her sides, standing straight.

“Hmm~”

I let out a faint hum as I scanned her from head to toe.

As always, Emily was an excellent maid, but her attire left much to be desired.

This world didn’t have proper maid uniforms yet, so what maids wore here wasn’t much different from the clothing of country women.

In my mind, a maid uniform was a black dress, a crisp white apron, and a headband—a universal rule. But this world didn’t adhere to that standard, and it always felt like something was missing.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

“Huh?”

I reached out toward Emily, slipping my hand between her arm and waist.

Grasping her waist, I found that my fingers sank in about a joint’s length.

With all her moving around for various tasks, Emily’s waist was practically devoid of fat and remarkably firm.

“Wow, your waist is really slim. It feels even thinner than before. Do you wear corsets or something…”

“Eek!”

With eyes wide like a startled cat, Emily flinched and gasped, then began shoving my arm away while yelling at the top of her lungs.

“W-Wait, Young Master! What are you doing all of a sudden?”

“Hold still for a second. It’s hard to measure your waist.”

“Y-You can’t just grab a woman’s waist like that! Let go! Right now!”

“Just a moment…”

“Eek!”

When I tried to calm her down and tightened my grip slightly, Emily pinched my arm hard.

Her thin, sharp nails dug into my skin.

“Argh!”

I yelped in pain and stepped back as a burning sensation spread where she pinched me.

Emily, her face flushed bright red, glared at me, breathing heavily.

“I never thought you’d be such a shameless person, Young Master!”

“I told you, I want to make clothes.”

“And what does that have to do with groping my waist?”

“Because it’s for you.”

“W-What…?”

The sound of air escaping.

Emily’s wide eyes and slightly parted lips were accompanied by a bewildered expression as she trembled slightly, staring at me in shock.

After a long pause, about five beats, she finally broke the silence with a dumbfounded voice.

“W-What did you just say?”

“I said it’s for you. I want to make clothes for you, so I need to know your measurements.”

“Sigh…”

Emily let out such a deep sigh that it felt like it could drill through the ground. Then, rubbing her face with both hands, she let out a dry laugh.

“Young Master, you should have said that first. I misunderstood you completely.”

“Oh.”

In my rush, I had acted before explaining.

I’d done something inappropriate to an unmarried young woman.

“My bad.”

I gave her an awkward smile and apologized as she lowered her hands cautiously, her lips pouting slightly.

“Be more careful next time.”

“Okay.”

Though Emily tried to speak calmly, her face was still bright red, and her voice carried a slight tremor, revealing she hadn’t fully recovered.

“So, is there anything else you need me to do?”

“Can I take your measurements?”

“Hah…”

As if the earlier commotion hadn’t happened, I shamelessly asked for her waist size, causing Emily to let out a short, incredulous laugh with her mouth slightly open.

“And what if I say no?”

“Then you’ll have to wear clothes that don’t fit.”

“There’s no guarantee I’ll wear them in the first place.”

“You’re not going to wear them?”

“No.”

“Wha—?!”

I was startled by Emily’s firm nod of refusal.

What should I do?

I had assumed Emily would agree without hesitation, but it seemed my plan was about to fall apart right from the start.

Sure, I could just make the clothes and show them to Mother, but without Emily wearing them, it would lack impact…

“Hmm…”

My thoughts swirled in confusion.

I clasped Emily’s hands tightly with both of mine and looked up at her pleadingly.

Emily flinched at the sudden contact, her shoulders jerking slightly.

“Ah…!”

“Hey, can’t you reconsider?”

My earnest plea made Emily’s eyes dart around in confusion.

Her lips moved slightly, as though she was trying to speak but couldn’t quite find the words.

“…Why does it have to be me?”

A soft voice escaped from between her lips.

Why her, of all people?

The answer was simple.

“Because you’re the prettiest.”

Clothing is ultimately about enhancing the person wearing it, and beautiful people make any outfit look stunning.

There’s a reason people say that the finishing touch to fashion is the face.

“…”

Emily’s restless eyes finally stopped, locking onto mine.

She stared so intensely it felt as if she was trying to peer into my very thoughts.

“Sigh~”

A sigh so deep it seemed to sink into the ground.

As if making a decision, Emily placed her hands on her hips and firmly parted her tightly closed lips.

“That… can you do it while I’m still wearing clothes?”

“Huh?”

The corners of my mouth stretched wide, rising high toward the sky.

“I asked if you can measure me with my clothes on.”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Then just make it quick.”

“Absolutely! I’ll finish in no time. Thank you so much, Emily!”

Suppressing the urge to hug her tightly, I shook Emily’s hands up and down enthusiastically, holding on to her firmly.

“Stop wasting time and just get it over with. It’s embarrassing.”

“Got it!”

Emily scrunched up her nose and avoided my gaze.

Releasing her hands, I quickly rummaged through the box to find the measuring tape.