It is rare in these years of civil war for the
Princess of Alderaan to wear garments
befitting a lady of her station. However, upon
her arrival on Bespin, she is able to trade her
worn cold fatigues for the luxury of flowing
silks the hues of cream and cinnamon,
delicately embroidered in a tracery of fanciful
patterns and edged in glistening metallics.
Garments that are sure to entice the eye of
one very dashing smuggler...