Odd one out
I wasn't the only one who dressed up - but the party hosts were fashion students, and their "80s nite" costumes were of course, utterly fabulous, and not at all out of place, just with a bit of an 80s tip.
Me, I dug out an old crushed velvet jacket, dress shirt which I belted round the middle with more belts than strictly necessary, tucked my baggy shiny pin-stripe morning suit trousers into my boxer boot tops, and crimped my long hair, painted a heart-shaped beauty spot on, and wore aviator shades.
Out of the hundred or so guests at the party (a massive shared house with vast garden), aside from my fashion mates' slightly kooky get ups, I was the only New Romantic in the Village.
Late in the night, some bloke shifted up to me, looked me up and down, and says "You is into, like, rock, yeah?" Well, yes, as it happens, but FFS, I'm in fancy dress. This is not my idea of a neat outfit. "Yeah, but, you like rock." I'm not really sure what his point was.

So, next time I was invited to a fancy dress do, I refused. Nope, not me, not this time.
Bollocks. Everyone else turned up in outrageous and complex costumes - and by being dressed normally, I looked possibly more of a tit than if I'd worn my New Romantic shit again.
( Invisible Wizard - 9th Level Pissant, Sat 2 Nov 2013, 10:50, 1 reply)

Did he say it in a faux dutch/swedish accent?

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Sat 2 Nov 2013, 11:07, closed)