Where in the World...

[karenaustoncd]

A little place outside Phoenix, in the sticks called Tonopah, half way between Phoenix and California

[Sallee]

Down Southern Ca. way in San Diego

Sallee

[Rachel]

Rachel here
I am 4 miles just north of detroit, have tried many times to find a girl to chat and maybe meet. do the girl time thing
if you think thats you just send me a pm
Thanks again
 rachel

[CynthiaX]

Currently I am in Western North Carolina. Not far from Cherokee, With nice mountain views. Can't find any cross dressing stores here. But in Ashe Vegas I am sure there are stores that would cater to us. I just need to get the nerve up to go into them. Seems as if anything goes in that city.

[Toni G.]

Beautiful East Mesa in monsoon land. The heat is sometimes a pain, but No earthquakes, tornados, or hurricanes. Grateful for outlets like Janets. Blessings... Toni G.

[osetstyle]

How fashion's new obsession with office dressing made me feel like an 80s throwback

It’s a normal Tuesday morning in the office and people are staring at me. They look me up and down as I fill my water bottle. They give me side eye in the lift. This is not an anxiety dream. This is real life. My appearance is inspiring unspoken questions in my colleagues. Namely: what on earth is she wearing? And why?

What I am wearing is an Isabel Marant suit. It is woollen, grey and double breasted, with burgundy stripes and softly padded shoulders. In the Guardian’s proudly dressed-down environment, where jeans and T-shirts are practically compulsory, I am an aberration.

It’s not just scruffy journalists who don’t wear suits in 2017. The world of work is in flux, and the world of workwear with it. In an age of telecommuting and the gig economy, the old rules are eroding. Formal attire is not extinct, quite yet, but it is endangered. MPs are no longer required to wear ties in the House of Commons; titans of industry wear hoodies as often as pinstriped suits.

As we face these anxieties, trust the fashion industry, in all of its contrariness, to back the corporate look in a big way, with designers from Céline to Calvin Kleinsending suits down the catwalk. Meanwhile, a wonkier take on office wear – shirts spliced with blazers, herringbone jackets fashioned into strapless dresses – has become the calling card of brands including Palmer//Harding and Monse. Menswear has gone managerial, too. At Balenciaga the concept has spread from the clothes to the entire brand aesthetic, with business cards used as show invitations and boardroom carpet providing the backdrop for ad campaigns.

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Fashion’s corporate fascination has piqued my own interest in trouser suits for the first time since graduation. My usual work clothes are – and I deliberately employ a fancy word here to make this seem more aspirational – deshabille. The hard-cornered boardroom aesthetic isn’t part of my fashion vocabulary for the same reason that I don’t have a LinkedIn profile. Working in the dressed-down media is a big part of my identity, as is the lack of delineation between office and weekend clothes. On the moodboard in my mind’s eye is Kate Moss’s bedhead hair and the tousled insouciance of Carine Roitfeld’s casually misbuttoned silk blouse. Sadly, crumpled chic is rather less iconic the way I wear it – not least because I’m 5ft tall – but I’d rather be a bit of a mess than look as though I’m trying too hard.

Wearing a suit feels physically weird. It’s a lot more fabric than I would usually put on my body. I’m hot. So hot that I tug at my collar like a dodgy banker in a movie about insider trading. Meanwhile, my colleagues appraise me, coolly. “It’s a conspicuous look,” one says. Another adds that I look “intimidating” and “a bit like a carpet”. “You look fucking powerful,” another says. He is smiling, but I sense a chasm between us. The stiff wool boxes me in, surrounds me completely. I feel weirdly isolated, as though I have set myself up in opposition to the tribe.The next day I trot into the office in high heels and a Stella McCartney checked coat-dress and one co-worker trills: “Oh, here she is, executive realness has arrived.” This phrase, well-known to viewers of Paris Is Burning and RuPaul’s Drag Race, is pertinent. Wearing double-breasted power tailoring does feel like a form of drag; a fantasy and a performance. It’s also screamingly 80s – other colleagues compare me to David Byrne and Working Girl – harking back to an era when power dressing manuals such as John T Molloy’s The Woman’s Dress For Success Book advised females to smash the glass ceiling with their shoulder pads. Molloy’s manifesto makes exhausting reading. Blouses should not be too high-necked or too revealing. Haircuts should not be too long or too short. Suits should ape men’s tailoring but femininity should be subtly preserved. Women should avoid sweaters and floral patterns “which say ‘lower class’ and loser,” he writes, charmingly. The history of women getting dressed for the office is so fraught that it almost feels as though somebody didn’t want us there.

Read more at: http://www.queeniebridesmaid.co.uk/plus-...id-dresses

http://www.queeniebridesmaid.co.uk/red-b...dresses-uk

[brienna_closetqueen]

Central Ohio

[Sarah_Smiles]

Florida

[jennyliz]

Im in Philadelphia myself.

[Victoria]

Hi all,
I am a Janet's newbie but have been dressing about 30 years.  I love reading all inputs from different regions of the country.  I am currently living in SE New Hampshire right on the Massachusetts border.  I have dressed while previously living in OH, TX and IL.