[ He's here to play along. They're guests here, so the general had insisted, worth putting on a celebration for, a function to show them how welcome they are, to make them more comfortable. Wash isn't comfortable, is getting more restless day by day, and he knows he won't be here for long. Keeping his head down and playing along with the niceties of their -- hosts -- just seems like a common sense way to make sure he doesn't end up catching too much attention before that happens.

Being dressed up honestly hadn't been as bad as he thought it'd be, either. He does wish they'd. Held off the glitter.

Wash can appreciate if not the artistry than the effort that the ghem women who dressed him had put into his outfit, but he still feels awkward, out of place. She looks comfortable, with a calm and easy confidence. Maybe it's some of the lessons he's been given on Cetagandan art and culture, maybe it's just easier to see in someone other than himself where all he can do is focus on how out of place he feels, but he thinks he can even see what the Cetagandans might have been trying to bring out in her with her facepaint, with the delicate coils and braids of her hair. ]

If by effort you mean standing still while I let people who knew what they were doing dress me, then -- sure. I put in some effort. [ Look he's very aware that he had absolutely nothing to do with dressing himself other than blandly suggesting colors in the least creative way possible when he was asked what he might like. ] And, well.

You don't look like you hate how you're dressed, for one. [ Not that he hates it, exactly, but he doesn't like it either. ] It -- suits you.

[ Maybe a compliment??? Look he doesn't know. ]