badly_knitted: (Dee & Ryo black & white)
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Title: The Importance Of Being Fashionable

Fandom: FAKE

Author: [personal profile] badly_knitted     

Characters: JJ.

Rating: G

Setting: During the manga.

Summary: JJ bemoans his colleagues’ lack of fashion sense.

Word Count: 366

Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, JJ, Fashion is life,’ at [community profile] fic_promptly.

Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.

A/N: For [personal profile] lil_1337. Sorry about the lack of Drake, he wandered off when JJ started going on about fashion.





Looking around the squad room, JJ shook his head despairingly and sighed. He just didn’t understand the people he worked with. There they sat at their desks, a mismatched bunch of losers dressed in shapeless, off-the-rack suits and outdated casuals. Honestly, he was ashamed to be seen in public with them. Well, apart from Dee of course. Mister Wonderful always looked perfect no matter what he was wearing, and besides, he favoured classic styles that never went out of date, but the others? They were pitiful.


He knew it could be hard to budget on a cop’s salary, but that was no excuse. It was just a case of careful shopping. Buy the right separates and they could be matched to create several trendy yet professional outfits, and a well-made suit could last the wearer through at least three or four years, if you had a good tailor to take care of alterations and keep it in vogue. Which naturally JJ did. Looking good was important; if you wanted to get ahead in life, you needed to dress for success. You couldn’t expect people to take you seriously if you just threw on any old thing every morning, like the others did.


The best that could be said about most of his colleagues was that they looked like the archetypal cops in every show on TV, except that most of the TV cops were better looking. As always, Dee was the exception that proved the rule.


JJ tried to set a good example, really he did, but the others had about as much clothes sense as…well, as people who thought the eighties was a cool decade for fashion. In other words none at all. Clearly they were a lost cause.


He couldn’t seem to persuade them to match his level of style, but he’d never let the other detectives of the 27th precinct drag him down to their level; he had too much self respect. They could make fun of his carefully coordinated outfits as much as they liked, but no matter what they said, JJ knew how good he looked, and for a fashion-conscious style icon like Jemmy J Adams, that was what counted.




The End



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