I rarely get a chance to dress but found an opportunity one evening in the fall. I was in a skirt and blouse (and of course of the undergarments) and heels. I don't do make-up or wigs, partly because of my mustache. I was in Missouri driving a Ford F-150 licensed for 18,000 pounds. The law in Missouri only requires a front plate for that license, but front and rear for anything licensed less. And it's rare for a F-150 to have an 18k license. I crossed a bridge into North Kansas City on a six lane road. This road is deserted of an evening, mostly an industrial area. As I got into NKC, a police officer sitting on the side of the road immediately turned his lights on and pulled me over. I knew right away what it was for. (I am overly cautious driving while dressed.) The officer asked for license and registration. My hands were trembling, but handed both to him. He walked to the front, looked at my plate, walked back and handed me my documents and told me to be careful.
I suppose the reason I was trembling is one of my son's Boy Scout leaders is on that police force - and my truck is very recognizable. And I'm not out to anyone. I haven't driven through there dressed since.