It's "Dress As You Like" Day at the SDMB!

I am dressed in a Victorian Tea Dress in a lovely wool/silk blend. It is a tartan containing purple, green and black. A large hoop and many petticoats hold the skirt up while the bodice is shaped by my whalebone corset, accentuating my tiny waist. The jacket and trim are done in a lush purple velvet that has a gorgeous sheen.
My matching ‘Scottish Bonnet’ is nicely done in the purple velvet with two huge coordinated green peacock feathers and crewel work. My silver chateline, mother of pearl cameo, and pearl drop earrings accent the outfit. My long golden curls are trained and restrained so that they are just off of my shoulders.

(I am a Civil War Reenactor, so I actually own this outfit. I even did the sewing myself!)

~Mag

I feel like dressing up so tonight it’s a Coco Chanel evening dress (red) with sling-back pumps and the obligatory gobs of pearls (from oysters which died peacefully in their sleep on the half-shell).

One short spritz of the No.5, thanks you.

I am dressed as a proper Californio of the 1800’s. I am wearing calzoneras (pants), which are made of black wool, and button up all the way to my waist along the sides. They are tight, but not too tight :). I leave them unbuttoned from about knee down, which shows off the drawers, or calzoncillos underneath (they’re pant like underwear).It also gives a nice flared effect (but not cheesy or ugly like bell bottoms). On my waist i have tied a red silk sash, which has fringed ends, which hang down. My camisa (shirt) is pure white, the bib pleated, and buttoned up. Around my neck is a black bow tie.

Over the camisa I have my waistcoat on, made of navy blue silk, in contrast to my chaqueta, which is also black wool, and embellished with gold embroidery (and only goes down to my waist). On my head I have a black headscarf which protects my black felt hat from being soiled. The hat itself is flat crowned, and flat brimmed. My shoes are black leather. The entire appearance is one of a distinguished Don, who perhaps once owned vast tracts of land in California.

By the way, i really would like to get an outfit just like that made. I think they are a very cool type of outfit. It’s too bad the sesquicentennial of California werent like next year (it was in 1999). The events for that would be the perfect occasion to wear such an outfit.

Today I am mostly wearing egg.

I have on my red Fox skin-tight bike shirt stuffed with Power Bars, Bannanas, and Granola in the back pockets. The zipper is just a little low. Being a trendy cyclist, I have on black matching Fox bike shorts with extra crotch support for those well-endowed men. :stuck_out_tongue: I have on Specialized bike socks and blue and yellow Specialized clip-on shoes. I have my red WWJD? braclet on that I’ve worn since my freshman year in high-schoool along with my shell necklace that I bought in Galveston Tx. I have a K2 hydropack on my back filled with 1/3 Gatoraide and 2/3 water. And of course, for safety a black Bell helmet and some Stussy sun-glasses. I may not be the best cyclist out there, but I’m by far the most sexy.

A pair of pink side-winders and a bright orange pair of pants.

Hell, I could really be a Beau Brummel. You know, if I just give it half a chance, that is.

I think I’ll wear my religious clothes today.

My jeans… because they are so holey.

My sweater… because it is so INCREDIBLY holey.

Lessee, what do I feel like today?

Either:
My favorite faded, tight jeans, my tight, white, rib-knit turtleneck (shows off my shape nicely), my black ankle boots with the zip up the side, and my black leather jacket.

Or:
Same jeans, denim shirt, ropers (boots), and my flat-crowned western-style hat.

I’m dressed as my favorite comedian, action/executive transvestite Eddie Izzard in the recorded special Dress To Kill

Black, knee-length boots that shine like a puddle of motor oil on a Sheffield back alley. They are crossed at the ankles on my desk and took five hours of hand-polishing to get the shine. Fortunately they weren’t my hands that did it. Khaki jodhpurs, topped by a black belt supporting my Webley holster, opposite the worn place where my sabre usually lives. My white silk shirt is covered by a black, bib-front leather jacket that will stop a chill like a hummingbird into a patio door. A white silk scarf is mostly undone, and a vulcanite cheroot holder juts jauntily upward from beneath my cruel moustache.