"Some of the magically appearing money that we don't even have to work for?" Korra asks, still raising her skeptical brow even as she reaches out for the bag and snatches it to head over to the couch, slumping down with ease as she starts to glance through the crinkly wax paper. With clothes in particular, she's always held a certain level of interest, mostly curiosity with a bit of wishful thinking, a part of her always wondering what it might be like to have a personality and look like Asami's.

She listens idly to the rest of what Bolin has to say, about how they might not fit — which makes sense, Bolin probably doesn't know her size down to a tee — or how their style might not suit her. But she tugs at each garment, testing the give of the fabric and the feel of it, and it isn't long before Korra stands resolutely again, stripping down to her undergarments without a second's pause.

"Do people really wear stuff like this?" Korra asks, holding up the bright white shorts first and holding them up to her hips. Honestly, it doesn't look like they'll cover much more of her than her briefs do, but still she slips into them, facing away from Bolin for a second before looking over her shoulder. "They feel kind of tight."