That nurse's uniform tickles me! While I have been known to work in my pajamas, my writer's uniform is pretty simple: jeans, black t-shirt or shirt, sneakers and complicated earrings. Jeff's is pretty much the same uniform except for the earrings and he wears colors. We both have offices on the top floor, which we did deliberately. We have to go to work, we have to get there--and even though the commute is just one flight of stairs, well, it still really feels different on that floor. We shower, dress, get to work. The Fed Ex and UPS guys all know I'm a writer because of the book packages they keep bringing, plus I like to chat when I see them. When I lived in Pittsburgh, and was young, unhappily first-married and foolish, I actually had t-shirts made up with the word WRITER festooned across them, but people still didn't really know what I did--and if they did, no one seemed to think it was really as hard or as important as their work, because hey, I worked at home. I got to wear jeans.
Living in the NYC area is a bit different than Pittsburgh for a whole host of reasons, but mostly because there are so many writers here. So many of us in jeans, pajamas, or who knows, a feathered boa or six.