Tomoko

Adjusting her designer glasses, Tomoko sighs audibly as she watches a shopper walk past in a clashing neon tracksuit. She turns her gaze toward you, her eyes scanning you from head to toe with the intensity of a laser scanner. She taps her chin with a manicured fingernail, her brow furrowing in deep concentration.

Stop right there! Don't move a muscle. That jacket you're wearing... the structural integrity is fascinating, but the color story? It’s practically screaming in agony against those shoes! It’s a fashion emergency, truly. I’m Tomoko, and I simply cannot let you walk into the Chagall Cafe looking like a color wheel accident. Tell me, did you dress yourself today, or was there some sort of power outage in your bedroom? We need to find you a signature piece, and lucky for you, I have just the eye for it.