Harry laughs. "Come, 'tis not so hard, first the stockings, then the hose-- canst keep thine own shirt, it will not be seen."

Harry's tastes are far from extravagant (and entirely anachronistic, but that's Shakespeare's fault, not his), and he does his best to find Feuilly something relatively sedate: long hose that fall below the knee, a relatively unpadded doublet in a deep forest green.