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Not every day can be spent in hustle and bustle, too much work and no play makes Janet a dull girl. So she's taken a day off, and has started it quite low key. Sitting on a bench in Central Park, enjoying a touch of nature, keeping her purse at her lap and listening to the animals. Taking in some of the fresher air, and trying not to think about the many stresses that tomorrow will bring. If anyone happened to read the tabloids, or having a passing knowledge of the fashion world, there's a shot she might get recognized. Strong followers of the superhero scene, might, with luck recognize her as well. Otherwise, aside from her luxurious attire, she doesn't stand out all that much.
It's a nice morning, to be certain. The wind is up, but not too much — just enough to swirlt the leaves about and remind those enjoying the park of the world outside the glass and steel behemoths outstretched around them, grasping at the sky. Into the somewhat idyllic scene enters the Outfit the Time Forgot, or Let's Rumble with the Jets. Isidore sports his jeans and leather today, hair pomaded to the point of shininess, and doing his best to truly enjoy the park without *looking* too much like he's enjjoying the park. He pauses nearby some benches to get a cigarette out of his pocket, head tilting as he squints a bit at the smartly-dressed woman sitting nearby.
Janet shifts her blue eyes in Isidore's direction, "you invest in your hair, don't you?" She asks with a slight smile on her lips, before prompting him, "are you going to offer me a smoke? Or do I need to ask real pretty like?" If anything, it's easy to spot she's no introvert.
Isidore's brows lift for a moment before his lips widen into an easy smile. His chin bobs up to her first inquiry, and he falls into motion again, pacing casually over to where Janet sits while flipping his cigarette around between two fingers to offer it to her. He holds it out for her to take, winking if she does so and only then going into his pocket for his own smoke and a colorful matchbook from a somewhat trendy club for the younger set.
Janet leans towards Isidor to take the cigarette between her lips, muttering, "lucky I should happen into a gentleman, thank you." Taking a look at the matchbox, Janet's lips curl into a more genuine smile, "so you like to have a good time? Me too. What's your fav club?"
With a grin, Isidore flicks a match to life, lighting up Janet's smoke. He murmurs around his own, "Still a few of us left," with a slightly peculiar twang around his rough-and-tumble Brooklyn accent. He fires his own smoke up before putting the match out between his fingers and answering her next question after taking his opening drag off of it. "The Copa's nice when I wanna get on some airs. There's the Parisian joint by Jackie's by uptown, I like that place. Good dancing." He grins around his cigarette and asks, "You?"
Janet takes a few puffs before leaning back on the bench, spreading her arms along the back support, "so what brings you to the park? I thought it wasn't a place for the cool guys." Her own accent belies a prestigious upbringing, some touches of finishing school no doubt. "My favorite happens to be the Hellfire Club, but then exclusivity always had its draw…I just happen to be fortunate enough to be included. If you've never been, I can make you my plus one on one of these nights…" sometimes being nice to strangers has its perks. "I must admit, I haven't tried the Parisian place though, I'll need to give it a visit."
Isidore grins and tips his chin up a bit. "It ain't? Maybe I'm not so cool after all, but they don't know what they're missin'," he chuckles, rolling his smoke absently between fingertips. "The Parisian's a blast. Just remember to bring your dancin' shoes." Another puff. "Yeah, I'll take you up on that. Never been to that one. Hellfire." He purses his lips and nods slowly. "Folks call me Izzy, by the way."
Janet laughs at Isidore's non-chalant reply to her quip, and pats the bench next to her, "well, since you already know about one of the best spots in the city, may as well join me," she offers. "Oh, I got my dancing shoes," Janet grins, "a whole closet of them." She extends an arm towards Isidore, "Janet," she intentionally provide only her first name, no need to spark a sense of familiarity when it's such a lovely conversation.
Isidore accepts her invitation with a nod, moving to sit beside her with ease. He shakes the offered hand and responds, "Nice to meet you. Whole closet, eh? Here I am talkin' dancin' with a real pro. Bet you could teach me a thing or two." His grin returns, casual as ever.
"Well, I wouldn't say pro, I just really enjoy dancing as a pastime, and I can afford them. You know it's important to match shoe color with the dress, right?" Likely not a real issue for most people, Janet puts quite a bit of thought on color matching and clashing for various things. Dancing shoes among them. "I'll have to see you dance before I know if I can give a tip or two." She lets out a swirl of smoke, and turns to look at Isidore now at her side, "so, Izzy, you dance for fun? Or you making a career of it in the future?"
Another chuckle greets her inquiry of career choice. "Me? All about the fun." Isidore taps his cigarette away from the conversation. "Really? You gotta match it up? I just figured you just kinda knew what went with what, you know?" Up go his brows, expressively. "I guess we got it easier, guys like me. You can pick from black or brown. Big," he begins, holdings his hands apart to either side of him, "..big variety, there. But, I gotta say, you get nicer clothes than guys do."
Janet seems duly impressed as she takes another puff from the cigarette, "I like people who know what's important in life." She sounds quite sincere too. "Well, some of have super powers that relate to fashion, not sure if I'm one of those, but I do try my best." She laughs out loud as Izzy speaks of having little choice as having it easy, "heavens no, that's not easy, that's pitiful! I think I just might create a new line of dancing outfits for men. Shoes included." Janet does incline her head with the last remark, "true, there should be more room to exploring porgress for men's fashion. Maybe that's why so many men resent women, poor wardrobe variety."
"Nah, they probably know you're smarter and they can't get over it." Izz grins and leans back, tucking his hands behind his head while his cigarette dangles from one corner of his mouth. "We had some pretty swank stuff to wear when I was a kid, then everyone got all stupid about it. Least now we're getting back to not dressing like we're going to a baptist funeral all the time." He pauses there, just for a moment, brows knitting slightly. He shakes the introspection off with a light toss of his head. "What about you, is clothes your gig? You sound like you know an awful lot about 'em."
Janet looks suspiciously at Isidoro when he unusually flatters her for wit, "was that a genuine feeling you have? Or are you just flattering me?" She asks outright, not having her mind set quite yet. "I very well should, I am a Fashion Designer by trade," Janet winks playfully, amused to have it suggested she knows about fashion. By now she actually gets recognized now and again. It's a reminder she's still far from where she wants to be.
Isidore turns to regard Janet, lips pursed curiously. "Which, that you know about clothes, or you got jets? Both, really." He shrugs a bit. "My ma's the smartest person I know. Don't hurt to tell her that, you know? Like you, you design fashion. The stuff you come up with gets out there and people wear it, right? It makes 'em feel good, maye better about themselves. Makes 'em look good, get out and do stuff they might not do otherwise. Heck, people are gonna meet and fall in love and have families maybe 'cause you made an outfit that catches the right eye." He grins, then. "I'm not gonna believe that happens 'cause you throw darts at a color wheel. So, yeah, I figure you got jets upstairs."