Further costume success!
I have no idea why he has this odd discontinuity. He knows what I look like, he's seen me in my pajamas, bathrobe, and occasionally wrapped in a spa towel, and he has been acquainted with my writing more than long enough to realize that no, I really don't have an issue wandering around all afternoon in a leotard and stiletto heels.
I am reminded of the time, many years ago, that my friends and I went to one of those nerd-tastic gaming conventions. It was in Phoenix in the middle of summer, and I despair of finding shorts that fit me, so I wore my usual summer clothing, which mostly involved a miniskirt. Tommy, who is basically the older brother I never had, told me that if I ever did that again, he'd be following me around the con with a baseball bat.
He should probably be thankful he wasn't a witness when one of the local comic stores paid my way to San Diego ComicCon because the (female) owner wanted matching comic-geek redheads as booth babes. Somewhere out there is band of Jedi with a group photo fronted by me, in a sundress, thigh-high stockings, and a giant straw picture hat with a chiffon bow at the side. Strangers kept asking me if my hair was real, or if I had extensions inside the crown of the hat.
Anyhoodle, I am terrible on the operating side of a camera and it's rat-clean day so my room is a mess, but I messed around with a mirror and the auto-timer on the Cybershot and took some photos of me in the Poison Ivy getup for posterity.
|With the timer|
|In the mirror|
|I just like all the Dutch angles on this one.|
|Detail of the appliqué on the bodysuit.|
|Detail of the shoes. And all the crap the rats have tossed out of their house onto the floor.|