We decided to have Indian/tie-dye day. What do the two have in common? Absolutely nothing. Our many Indians brought some of their native dishes. The non-Indians brought some of their own creations–and dressed in tie-dyes.
I gues you could make a tenuous connection between the faddish popularity of Nehru jackets and tie-dyes in the 60s, but in this case I think it was just coincidental.
Lots of good food, too. Wish ya could indulge.
It’s really cold in here, so I’m torn between my Dr. Dentons and my full-length Russian sable (made from sables who died peacefully in their sleep of course.)
Do you think both would be just too?
Steel toed half-boots, in black suede. Dark blue jeans, correct size for Texas wear. Maroon long sleeve turtleneck, and glasses, so I won’t run into any walls.
Look out, world. 
You can’t see me. I’m covered head to toe in top secret active camouflage (except for my eyes, which are wearing night-vision goggles).
A Zoot Suit.
Red with black pin-stripe jacket with enormously broad shoulders, peaked lapels, three buttons, shaping at the waist and hip area, long rear center vent, and two outside pockets. Matching slacks with super-baggy mid to late 1950’s style higher Hollywood waistband with smaller belt loops, inside suspender buttons, four outside pockets, and an “extreme” tapering from the knee down to a very small and cuffed bottom. Matching yellow/gold Zoot Hat, black body with white taping. Black taped-collar dress shirt, brash yellow silk tie and hanky set, and a Thin Belt. Two-toned shoes in brown and white.
No socks or underpants.
A zoot suit? With a drape shape? And a reet pleat?
“Here comes mah walkin’ rainbow!”
With a swanky hanky, svelte belt, and ribald piebald shoes.
And a rough cuff.
And a pocket watch on a long, long platinum chain, suitable for twirling when I hang out on street corners eyeballing the frails.
Black stilleto heels, stockings, a string of pearls and Chanel #5.
" . . . hang out on street corners eyeballing the frails."
—Don’t get gay with ME, ya parlor sheik, or I’ll poke ya in the beezer with this here Shepherdess crook.
I’m wearing a long gown made of yards and yards and yards of the finest, lightest silk (made from silkworms that died peacefully in their sleep). In design it is deceptively simple, clinging, flowing, outlining a limb or a curve, then rippling and concealing. It is the color of a sunrise reflected off a glacier. I am wearing nothing else, no shoes, no bra, no underwear, nothing but my own fabulous skin and a few flowers in my hair.
I’ll be unimaginative and describe my two favorite real-life outfits.
Blue jeans, old and worn in, a little tight around the ass, straight-legged. I carry my wallet in my back left pocket and you can see the worn outline of it; there are grease stains on the sides and grass stains on the knees. They’re so soft they feel like velvet. I love them. Broken-in tan cowboy boots (ropers; i hate the tight-instep pointy-toe things most women’s boots are), they used to be my friend Sandy’s. A brown leather belt with a brass buckle. A tight white t-shirt tucked in. A Player’s Racing Blue western-style shirt with floral yoke and yellow piping trim, unbuttoned. A straw cowboy hat on my head, a piece of hay in my mouth.
or.
Tight-assed black flare-legged pants made of shiny motocross-suit material. Tucked-in tight black t-shirt. Black leather belt with silver studs. Steel-toe black boots. My racing jacket open over top. Charcoal eye shadow and red lipstick. Black leather gloves, the kind where the fingers stop at the second knuckle and the knuckles on your hands are cut out (dont’ have to take 'em off to play my guitar, which I have with me, of course).
Power Armor. With enough energy weapons to worry NATO. It’s Black. No reflection off of it.
Today, for real, I wore my leather pants to work. You should have seen the shocked looks I’ve been getting. This actually surprised me a bit since I work in downtown Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood in a rather casual office and I didn’t think anyone would be phased by them. Plenty of women wear them around the office, but apparently it’s still “daring” for a guy to wear them.
So, in defiance of all my stuffy co-workers, in addition to my leather pants, I’ve got a black vinyl t-shirt on, my black leather jacket, and my black cowboy boots, and i’ll even borrow my friend’s dog-collar just to accessorize! I’m tempted to show up for work like that for real!
From the top down: black Resistol cowboy hat, real beaver felt; old, slightly holed white t-shirt; wide black leather belt; faded, perfectly broken-in jeans; slightly scuffed-up Justin[sup]tm[/sup] steel-toed workboots.
I am dressed as Rose in Titanic. From the “I’m flying!” scene. It is a simple low-cut camisol of creamy lace, underneath a jacket of rich blue velvet-with satin collar and cuffs. There are two satin panels on the sides of the opening of the jacket with rich embroidery-split in the middle by a pleated satin sash. The jacket ends in four long tassels, ended with beads. The skirt is long, but is gathered up in the front to reveal a satin underskirt, also covered in embroidery that matches the sides of the jacket.
With this, I have on an off-white long silk gossamer shawl with long fringe at the ends and beautiful gold embroidery.
My hair is long and worn in rich curls, hanging down my back-with the sides pulled up and held with a stained glass hair comb in the shape of a butterfly. I add white satin gloves with pretty embroidered flowers on them, and a beige crocheted handbag.
Italian World War 1 Military Uniform, set off by some nice day-glo pink fluffy slippers.
My Rocky Horror outfit. Black Rocky Horror shirt with long sleeve fishnet shirt underneath, short black skirt with rips and safety pins, black fishnets and black five inch heels. Black lipstick, nail polish, collar, and cuffs optional.
I am dressed in an early Tudor England style gown made with a deep, emerald-green silk velvet. A whale-bone and wood corset pushes up my cleavage, but it is modestly covered by a heavily-embroidered chemise. The underskirt that peeks out in front is a shimmery gold silk and rustles when I walk. My long red hair is covered by a French Hood that is encrusted with pearls. Around my waist is a jeweled belt that holds my acoutrements: a small mirror, a pomander (to keep the bad airs away), and a pearl rosary (for praying at a moment’s notice!).
Eva Peron white gown with Madonna bullet bra on top and my Cat-in-the-Suessical Hat. I love theatre.