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This is a question DIY fashion

As a teenager I went to the Venice Carnival. I made a mask out of a paper plate, got a metal coathanger and bent it into horns around my head and draped a black tshirt over that. At the time I thought I looked really cool, but thinking it over...

Tell us about your own oh-so-cool fashion innovations.

(, Thu 24 Aug 2006, 14:24)
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aubergine coloured oxford bags
that is all
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 20:44, Reply)
All Dressed Up...
Last year me and my mate were "so poor we were sharing genes" and had had one of those weeks where come the weekend, you desperately need to get as drunk as possible, as cheap as possible. We set off into the nearby town, wondering how we could get drunk when all we had between us was about £5.27. As if by magic, we saw a a shitty little off-licence-come-newsagent. Our spirits (wahey) lifting slightly, we entered, and saw that they were hurredly selling off massively out-of-date cava. Not just that, but they were also flogging those thin Cafe Creme cigars that had big warning signs on them in Greek.

Putting two and two together, we went home with our cheap stash of booze and tobacco and put on some old tuxedos I had got as hand-me-downs years ago - and I mean the works; yellowing pleated shirts, bow ties, cufflinks, the lot. We even polished our shoes. We then proceeded to sit in front of the tv, quaffing this stale, flat wine and smoking crumbly cigars, stopping only to bark things at each other like:

"When is this BLADDY limosine going to get here, anyway? I'm not waiting all night, what what what"

"Look at that fine strumpet, I'd give her what-for"

"I'm glad they don't let women into the 19th hole of MY golf club, I tell you that, ho ho ho"

We looked like two dirty old men, and by the following morning, smelled like that too. At the time, I honestly thought we looked the cats pyjamas, but thinking back now, only a year later, I realised we're just a couple of cunts, really.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 20:06, Reply)
Genderfuck to the max
Wasn't really a fashion thing, but when I was 14 or so and the 'rents were off on holiday, I went to school dressed as a Baroque fop. That screwed with people's heads, as what do you call a girl dressed as a very camp man, complete with a drawn-on curly moustache and frills everywhere? Muahhaha.

The silliest thing about it was that I considered myself to be completely straight back then, and sneered at the whispers of "...yes, kids tend to experiment with their sexual identity at that age"... nnnyeess. Of course, now I'm happy in the knowledge that I am what I am: a 17th century gay man.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 18:51, Reply)
Not strictly DIY, but everybody else seems to be posting fancy dress tales, so here I go.
Last halloween I turned up at my friends house at around 6:30pm, costumeless, to have "A quick drink and a smoke before we went to the pub". Of course, we had a large bottle of jack daniels with us, which proceeded to get drunk *very* quickly.

About an hour later we decided we really should come up with some sort of fancy dress, so my friend proceeded to root about her house to see what she could find. About 15 minutes later she comes down with a bag full of her old army cadets uniform. Honestly, these were the most incredible trousers you've ever seen, with braces and a shirt and everything. So we get kitted out as soldiers, continuing to get more and more drunk. After we're dressed we decide we need something a bit more girly, since we are, after all, both girls. I have the ingenious idea of using lipstick as camo facepaint. Bright pink lipstick. Smeared all over our faces. It all gets a little hazy from here on...

At about half past 9 we finally leave for the pub, already much too drunk for anything, covered in pink and with our "weapons". I had a pink barbie hairdryer stuffed into my pocket, and my friend was harassing everyone we met with a pink barbie hair braider (Really terrifying things if youve ever seen one). We enter the pub, terrorise everybody in there for the duration of the night, and apparently leave at closing time to cause havoc in the pizza shop.

I woke up the next morning fully clothed on my bed, with pink lipstick all over my face and pillow. It stained, and I was stuck with pink sparkly blotches for a good few days.

Moral? Jack Daniels is fucking ace.

EDIT: I forgot to say! My friend also had her "Happy Halo Hat" on, which is basically a proper military helmet, but covered in pink fluff. Beautiful.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 18:41, Reply)
camoflague shorts, led zeppelin t shirt, chequred vans. bang on it
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 18:40, Reply)
If having a flabby arse is fashionable

then my girlfriend is the most hip chick in town.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 18:19, Reply)
My mothers set of merkins

Not only can she colour coordinate her bush to match her underwear, but my younger brother can use them as beards when off to illegaly purchase cigarettes.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 18:06, Reply)
DIY Fashion?
One day at work my underpants split, and since my knob kept on slipping out and grating on my trouser-leg, I did some DIY and 'fixed' my undies with a stapler and some sellotape. It worked until I was heading home on the bus and a staple came undone and started digging into my crotch.

DIY? I almost fixed myself.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 17:04, Reply)
From Flanders Fields
Whilst still living in London, I hung about with a group all into similar music. We liked our rock, bit of goth, you get the picture. Many were the pairs of DMs, and numerous were the rock T-shirts.

My friend's husband at the time (she finally saw sense and showed him the door) was a bit of a crusty - he was also a slight man, small of frame and pretty diminished in the height area as well. Remember this as it's relevant later.

Anyway he proudly stomped down the pub one night in a long old style army coat - full on khaki floor length with military insignia a plenty. He'd bought it second hand.

He proceeded to break into a heart wrenching speech, explaining that the coat once belonged to a French soldier in the first world war, who had probably died in the trenches. By this time the rest of us listening were in tears. He finished with a flourish of "and to this day, you can still read the soldiers name in the back of the coat".

Show us, Steve, we chorused. And duly he did.

It said "Petit". In biro.

(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 16:08, Reply)
Not DIY but....
Christmas before last, my mum was a bit flush and splashed out on some 'proper designer clobber' for my brother and I.
I smiled sweetly when recieving the 'european fit' fcuk long-sleeve t-shirt (I've never worn a long-sleeve tee in my life - I don't think it accentuates my beer gut too well!, and my entire wardrobe is oversized shirts / baggy jeans) but found it a little harder to mask my shocked state of mirth when I unwrapped....... a burberry shirt.
Bless her, she thought this was the dogs bollox, it was 'the big name to have' and she actually paid over a hundred quid for this high-quality, yet rather garish item. Yes, this wasn't a pastel piece with pale patterned hilights, it was the full on brown 'raincoat lining' chequered horridness. I would have actually looked the part in 'that picture' of Daniella Westbrook and her sprog.

It's still sitting in my wardrobe today, i haven't the heart to give an unworn £100 shirt to the charity shop. Maybe I'll go to a fancy dress party in a few years? I definitely have some adidas trackies and I think some black boots that'll pass for rockports.

In response to other posts, I also had a grandmother who was a demon with knitting needles, and suffer the childhood pictures of homemade jumper hell.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 15:50, Reply)
Chest Enhancement
I think the worst move was stealing one of my mum's bras and sticking koosh balls in them.
They were not comfy and i don't think anyone at the school disco was convinced by my sudden transformation from pancake chest to, well pancake chest with 2 funny lumps attached.

Ironic really, i now have to invest in feats of incredible structural engineering to keep the damn things under control.

On a fancy-dress trauma note, my dad once dressed my sister in a lab coat, wrote 'Department of Entomology' on the back and stuck plastic insects to her... she was 8. Scientists, pah.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 15:46, Reply)
Pretty Flash
Last year some time, i noticed a school trip the following week, and, grabbing the opportunity to not wear school uniform, i signed on and wore some pretty swanky stuff, nice new Austin Reed jacket and jeans, and a *cough*matalan*cough* shirt.

My friends wondered who i was trying to impress at the box factory.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 15:44, Reply)
Dear Christ, the memories..
Playing an all-dayer one dull October in 1998, I wore:

South Park Tshirt, Sepultura shorts, stripy socks and bits of twine in my then ginger hair... I met my first girlfriend that night, so it can't have been that bad.

Sixth Form:

A variety of long black skirts, those silly mesh tops and 'scary' black metal badgerpaint...

More recently:

Pink eyeshadow, pants so big they practically have their own timezone and a permanent Gridlink shirt. Pretty cool, actually.

(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 15:41, Reply)
"That isnt....No..... Oh shit,it is!!!
When I was 13,I was in the highest point of my goth phase. i looked pretty decent though,if a bit chubby.

Somehow I managed to snare a little pre-pubesent dickhead as a boyfriend. As was the done thing in those days,me and my friends arranged to meet him at a local shopping centre. I was wearing pretty decent clothes,baggyish purple trousers,trainers and a black tshirt.

As we were waiting I saw some tiny,horrid thing coming towards me. It was my boyfriend,we eventually realised. Decked out in his best market-goth clothing.

He had short blone hair,and uber blonde eyebrows. He was wearing a black tshirt,with a big,huge shirt with flames up it. Then some faded,not quite baggy or long enough black 'baggies'. All this teamed with a nice pair of white market stall trainers. I couldnt quite believe it but it was true...

More recently,he tried to dye his blonde hair blue-black,and it came out a fetching shade of grey. Silly wee git.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 15:40, Reply)
Several of my friends currently wear legwarmers on their arms. Yes I have told them what they look like (twunts, in case you were wondering) For once I'm the sensible one!

Now, I'll just put on my white wizards hat and robes (cool or what) and get to that 50 cent gig.

Apologies for lack of hilarity, and, of course the lack of a length/girth joke
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 15:34, Reply)
Eau d'sheep
I've never been one to chase trends. Quickly in high-school I realised that my dad would never pony up for 'the latest thing', so I adopted a never in and never out of style (I got the first bit dead on). Nothing leaps to mind that was truly offensive, at least not by the standards seemingly willingly confessed to on here so far...

My dad did persist in decking me out with plimsoles of a Dunlop Green Flash ilk when I was a sprog though. This was waaaay before anyone thought them cool. Even the kids in Hi-Tec took the piss!

I did own clothes that I wouldn't wear in public though, mainly given as presents from my mum. I'm not sure how, maybe it was an extreme form of organic terrorism, but whatever she bought me, wool-based or not, smelled of sheep. And not freshly dipped ones either, festeringly dead ones. Back to the charity shop from whence they came, methinks!
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 15:28, Reply)
Suits You, Sir.
My bad dress sense as a teenager is the stuff of legend. I feel a few posts coming on…

Age 20-odd I went to an indie night at Wigan Pier. Me and my pals were going through a bit of a Barbarella obsessive phase, so we thought it’d be a great laugh to go dressed in a futuristic spacey age-y way. At the time I’d just reached my full height of a shade over six foot. However the rest of me hadn’t caught up by then and I was incredibly thin and had absolutely no tits of which to speak. I looked a touch like a slightly startled anorexic giraffe.
So I dressed myself in a rather fetching tiny silver minidress and silver platform knee high boots. I then hit on the idea of dying my very short, scruffy blonde hair a rather fetching shade of candy pink. Shoved on some metallic jewellery and voila! Instant cool.

Headed out for what promised to be a cracking night, danced my little socks off in what was a really rather hot and sweaty club. After an hour or so, my mate takes me to one side and says “Err, Rak, you might want to go to the loo and have a quick look in the mirror…” Which I do, only to discover that the heat of the club and the sweat I’ve generated has made my hair dye run. All over my face. I now have a bright pink face. Which is showing no signs of shifting. I walk out of the loo to tell my mate I’m going home to repair the damage, possibly by sandpapering my face. As I leave the toilet a bouncer comes over and says (sounding in my head now, uncannily like Peter Kay) “Oi, sunshine, none of you pervy types in here, next time use the gents like the rest of the blokes.”

Yup, he thought I was a tranny. A big, pink faced tranny.

I bought a Wonderbra after that.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:39, Reply)
Oh jesus...they're flooding back now !
De rigeur School attire - Harrington jackets and sta-pressed fucking waffles !? And being a little goody-twoshoes, uniform wearing nerd I never got to wear them.

Made up for it in University...highlights were a flat-top, light grey crombie, metallica t-shirt, tie-dyed purple jogging-pants that faded to pink at the ankle...oh and a 2-inch long silver fishbone earring (for the left ear I might add !) No wonder I had to stalk my would-be girlfriend for a year before she gave in and agreed to go out with me ?!
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:35, Reply)
I almost forgot
the pair of greay polyester trousers I had with the wrap around miniskirt type thing sewn into the waistband.

I also have a 'friend' who will insist on wearing black bondage trousers (the ones with zips and starps and chains coming of every available point) and the same Metallica t-shirt everytime we go out.
He is a bit of a lightweight though, so we have found that if we take him to the pub, we can attch furniture to said trousers...Its seems a lot funnier when you're drunk...
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:35, Reply)
When Fashion and Flame Meet
Growing up as I did, in the 80s, in a Yorkshire village, I was clearly at the cutting edge of fashion to rival Vivienne Westwood herself. Back then the 'cool kids' had Naf Naf black nylon puffa jackets, purple HEAD bags and global hypercolour t-shirts (why you would want to advertise the fact you were sweating like a rapist is beyond me).

And of course, the obligatory shell suit. I was so pleased when my cousin handed hers down to me. Bright green with fetching neon pink highlights. Me and my little friends would get together wearing them and go off on adventures.

Until one fateful morning my friend Jake, who was about nine at the time, picked up a lit candle whilst wearing his shell suit. Quicker than you could say WHOOMPH, his chest was alight. Leaving green nylonny globs of suit nestled amongst his melted chest. 15 years later and Jake still has that scar (and is down in nipples to the tune of one).

The moral? FASHION CAN KILL. Especially if your chosen attire is a flammable lesiure suit.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:30, Reply)
Was out at a friend's birthday dinner, we were going to a halloween night at a pub after, free entry for costume and I didn't have one.

So I stole all the helium balloons the restaurant had provided and tied one to the end of each of my dreads. Got in free, got loads of compliments and free drinks, plus some dirty looks from those who had actually made an effort.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:30, Reply)
Every year i go away camping with the lads. We always have a night out in the nearest big town or city from where we are camping. This year it happened to be Worcester. My friends not telling me the night out would be pirate fancy dress all acquired their costumes from a high end fancy dress shop early on.


Last minute job. I had pyjama pants liberated from my grandad, a T-shirt my mother very kindly drew a cartoon skull and cross-bones on. A waistcoat so horrible i never knew one could ever exist. A very gay pink 'bandana hat thing' a £1.00 pirate kit from the local pound shop, included clip on earing, a sword and a compass. A neckerchief i made out of some crappy material and a 'scabbard'.

Here's the finished product, in the most campest pose ive ever seen:


After a few pints and a bottle of wine i didnt care anymore.

We turned up to this club, luckily it was fancy dress too. Result! i thought, we got in. Fancy dress back to school style. Gutted.

Ah well, i stiull enjoyed people asking me "Why are you dressed as pirates?" and replying with a hearty "because we arrrrr"
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:28, Reply)
Went out guising (trick or treating - for the 'Merkins) one year with two or three pairs of underpants pinned to my sweater...I went as a 'chest of drawers'

Didn't get a lot of goodies that year I can tell you !!
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:17, Reply)
this just surfaced from the depths of my locked away memories...
at a summer fete at my primary school I remember having various shapes (stars and the like) sprayed onto my (then) luxuriant, very blonde, luke-skywalker-esque hair in a veritable rainbow of colours.

these unfortunately didn't deal too well with the bath/shower in the evening, leading to streaks of colour, and I can hear the cries of Rainbow Brite even now.....shudder
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:17, Reply)
Svajoklis - I feel your pain
I think I was about 8 or 9 (1971/2) when I was invited to a fancy dress party, my very first. My Mum had the bright idea of dressing me up like a robin. I can't remember the details but it was mostly brown with some sort of red bib sewn to my chest. God knows why I went along with this.

I turned up to find my host dressed in a raincoat and beret, mincing around saying "Oooh, Betty", and most of the others with spaceman or cowboy proper costumes on. I don't think I cried at the time but later, alone in bed, I wept.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 14:03, Reply)
Up until quite recently
I used to go for the full on goth look.

Except it was quite shit, come to think of it.


- Huge lengths of useless chains
- Ridiculously huge black baggy jeans
- T-shirts with pentagrams on
- Big black coats
- Chains wrapped around my arms
- Very badly done eyeliner
- Big black builders boots
- Later, messy long hair, mascara, and random bits of colourful fabric wrapped around various parts of my body

And I used to drive an old, knackered, badly modified volkswagen scirocco with a sticker saying "LOWRIDER" in the back windscreen and an AC/DC logo on the side.

Unfashionable? You bet.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 13:12, Reply)
Jacob the Egyptian
When I was in primary school, my eldest sister (a different one -- not that scrench who posts round these parts) had a boyfriend who clearly want to impress, so in the fortnight or so running up to the school summer fair he helped me make my costume for the summer fair fancy dress competition, to which, being a fan of Akhenaten et al, I had decided to go as an Egyptian Pharaoh. The costume required a lot of time, effort, white sheets and careful research to ensure historical accuracy. It was an impressive effort - complete with a calippo tube covered in foil for the artificial beard, and I headed to the summer fair like Thutmose III to the Battle of Megiddo, highly confident of victory. The only thing I hadn't figured in to the equation was my complete lack of self-esteem, and as soon as I arrived at the fair, Laura MacIntyre (who was wont to boast about eating her scabs)made a beeline for me, pointed and said "Jacob the Egyptian, Jacob the Egyptian!" This may not seem like very vicious insult (or indeed, any kind of insult), but I was the very self-conscious type and I looked around at all the ninjas and spidermans and felt (as I still do now) like a Sao Tome Lemon Dove amongst pigeons, and had to be taken home in floods of tears. Archie Johnston-Stewart won the competition as a chef, and my sister split up with her boyfriend a few days later. Last time I saw Laura she looked like a fat pikey slag.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 13:12, Reply)
You probably know me
1975: T-shirt with giant pic of Sir Elton John's face
1977: Poncho cinched in with actual rope, necklace made of horseshoe nails, peacock feather earrings
1978: Rust-coloured corduroy jumpsuit, Farrah hair, platform shoes (suitable for dancing the night away at Stoker's Teen Disco)
1982: Long flowing purple hair
1984: Short sides gelled back with long fringe hanging in heavily made-up eyes, all black skin-tight garb, pointy boots, bandana tied around leg, snotty attitude
1986: Florals, florals, florals! And shoulder pads.
1986-present: Long black skirts (consistency is key)
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 13:06, Reply)
I was on stage (I used to sing a bit) and wearing a silk kimono a friend had bought me from Hong Kong.
It basically came undone on a high note and revealed me to a collection of Birmingham's finest. Including my brother in law's footy team. I cannot being to tell you the years of abuse and nightmares after this experience.
What a silly girl I was.
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 12:42, Reply)
School Discos...
When I was in Middle School (About 12 years old, circa 1999), we used to have School discos twice a term, where it was the general fashion for at least half the girls in the class to turn up wearing the following:
Long Denim Skirt
Bright Green/Orange/Purple* Ellesse jumper
Massively whitened Nike trainers.
I ridiculed them then, I ridicule them now. Most of them are now of the Pollard Persuassion, so I don't care too much

*Delete as applicable
(, Fri 25 Aug 2006, 12:40, Reply)

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