Sid Meier's Civilization

Freshly showered, dressed up in a black blouse with a low-cut V-neck, embroidered black pants with a flower lace pattern, and a nice coat that was leaps and bounds different from the rugged coat she’d worn for scavenging.  Her boots had raised heels.

Aunt Rachel’s wasn’t a place for nice clothes, but nice clothes did a lot to give that inner voice a little less ammunition.  So did being showered, so did having her hair perfect.  There were dogs milling around, the occasional dog barking, and signs of horses.  There were people pulling together with unloading trucks and getting temporary shelter up.

It was funny, but Aunt Rachel’s had been one of the further-flung settlements, for a certain type of person with certain skills and tolerances.  Now it was expanding.  Thirty thousand people in all, and they were people content to stay on Gimel, to be cape-adjacent.