Chapter 26: The Wardrobe Upgrade
Penny walks into the shop, takes one look at me, and grimaces.
"Okay, we need to talk about this." She gestures at my outfit—faded band t-shirt, jeans with a hole in the knee, flannel that's seen better decades.
"Talk about what?"
"Your clothes. Stuart, you own a successful business. You're consulting for TV shows. You're dating a wonderful woman. And you're dressed like a freshman art student who just discovered Nirvana."
"Hey, I like this flannel—"
"The flannel is committing crimes against fashion. We're going shopping."
"I don't need—"
"Yes, you do." She turns to Melissa, who's browsing manga in the corner. "Back me up here."
Melissa looks up, clearly trying not to laugh.
"I've been gently suggesting wardrobe updates for months."
"See? Gentle isn't working. We're going aggressive." Penny grabs my arm. "Saturday. Mall. You, me, and whoever Melissa wants to bring for backup."
"I'm actually okay—"
"Stuart. Your success deserves better presentation. Trust me on this."
Saturday arrives with the inevitability of doom.
Penny picks me up at 10 AM, armed with coffee and determination. Melissa meets us at the mall, looking way too amused.
"This is going to be fun," she says.
"For who?"
"For me. I get to watch Penny transform you."
The first store is overwhelming. Racks of clothing, all looking expensive and complicated. Penny navigates it like she grew up here, pulling items with scary efficiency.
"Try these." She shoves jeans and button-ups at me. "And these. And—" A blazer appears. "—this."
"I don't wear blazers."
"You do now."
The dressing room mirror is unforgiving. I look exactly like what I am—a guy who's never thought about clothes beyond "is this clean?"
But when I put on the first outfit Penny selected—dark jeans that actually fit, a button-up in some shade she called "slate blue"—something shifts.
The Attractiveness power kicks in. I've felt it building for months as each success compounds, but seeing it visually is different. The clothes fit better than they should. The color works with my skin tone in a way I can't explain. I look like someone who has their shit together.
"Oh wow," Melissa says when I emerge.
"See?" Penny's vindicated. "Told you."
We cycle through outfits for two hours. Penny's ruthless—vetoing anything too trendy ("you're not twenty-two anymore") or too formal ("you own a comic shop, not a law firm"). She builds what she calls a "foundation wardrobe."
Three good jeans. Five button-ups in various colors. Two casual blazers. Nice shoes that aren't sneakers.
"This is expensive," I protest, looking at the accumulating pile.
"You can afford it. Apple stock, remember?"
Fair point. I'm sitting on thirty thousand dollars in investments. I can buy grown-up clothes.
At the register, the total comes to $847. My hand barely shakes swiping the card. Six months ago this would've been impossible. Now it's just money.
"The transformation isn't complete," Penny announces while bags accumulate. "We need a haircut. And those glasses—" She points at my frames. "—need updating."
"What's wrong with my glasses?"
"They're from 2003 and you know it."
She's not wrong.
Three hours later, I've got a haircut that doesn't scream "grad student," new frames that apparently make my face look "more defined," and enough clothes to not wear the same thing three times a week.
"Moment of truth," Penny says, making me stand in front of the mall's full-length mirrors. "What do you think?"
The person looking back barely resembles the guy who walked in this morning.
The clothes fit. The haircut frames my face. The glasses look modern instead of desperately clinging to early-2000s trends. Combined with the Attractiveness power that's been building for months, I look like someone successful.
Like I belong in this body, this life.
"I look different," I manage.
"You look good," Melissa corrects, sliding her arm through mine. "Really good."
"You look like you've figured out who you are," Penny adds. "Which, you have. This is just making the outside match the inside."
Monday at the shop, the reactions are immediate.
A regular customer does a literal double-take. "Stuart? Whoa, did you—what happened?"
"Got some new clothes."
"It's working."
Throughout the day, I notice the difference. Customers engage more. Women linger at the counter. That casual flirting that sometimes happened before becomes more frequent, more direct.
Melissa has to actively "claim territory," as she puts it, by being visibly affectionate.
"This is what success looks like," she says, straightening my collar. "You've grown into it."
The gang shows up for Wednesday night, and their reactions run the spectrum.
"You look successful," Leonard observes. "Like, actually successful. It's weird."
"Weird good or weird bad?"
"Weird... different. But good different."
Howard's more direct: "Dude, you're gonna get hit on more. This is a whole new level."
Raj just smiles. "The universe is aligning your external presentation with your internal growth. This is good karma manifesting."
Sheldon examines me like a science experiment.
"Improved clothing and grooming are documented to increase social perception of competence and attractiveness by 20-30%. Combined with your existing confidence increase, you've optimized your social presentation."
"Thanks, I think?"
"You're welcome. Though I should note—" He pulls out his phone, takes a photo. "—for my documentation of your transformation. The correlation between your professional success and personal presentation improvement is worth tracking."
"Of course you're documenting it."
That night, getting ready for bed, I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. New clothes hanging in the closet. New haircut. New glasses.
New life, built on old knowledge and supernatural advantages.
Nine months ago I was failing. Alone. Terrified.
Now I'm successful. Dating someone wonderful. Consulting for Hollywood. Well-dressed.
The powers worked exactly as promised. Each success building the next, creating this upward spiral of confidence and opportunity.
But looking at this transformed person in the mirror, I have to ask:
Is this still me? Or did I become someone else entirely?
The question lingers, unanswered, while I brush my teeth with expensive toothpaste I can actually afford now.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people means more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' timelines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Timeline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access + 5 new chapters weekly.
Timeline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Timeline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the moment I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/Whatif0