At the confirmation, Sirius pushed the bulk of his hangers aside, quite certain there wouldn’t be anything within immediate reach that met that description. Picking through the shirts pushed into the blind corner of the antique armoire, Sirius finally started to pull some shirts.<br/>First out was a blush cotton dress shirt; with it in his hand he made a vague gesture, before hanging it on the doorknob as an option.<br/>“That one’s cotton,” he mused under his breath, eyes to the wardrobe. The next shirt he pulled was a white satin blouse. A smile tugged at Sirius’ vocal cords. “This might’ve been posh at some point.”<br/>That, too, was hung up, and Sirius continued looking. “I might have some pretty neutral knits, too.”