let’s talk about sophie devereaux for a minute.
it’s the cross my heart job (lev 4x09) and sophie undoes her ponytail, drops her blazer, shimmies down her slacks to reveal a short dress (or long tunic), and swaps her black flats for red heels. she has changed her entire look in a matter of moments.
and I just. i love this for her. she tells eliot I always travel with heels. when what she means is I’m always ready for a costume change.
her knoweldge of fashion and trends would have to be as extensive as her knowledge of art. and there’s psychology at work there to—the difference between the femme fatale or the girl friday or the nerdy scientist. when and how to use those personas. but most importantly—how to embody those personas. heels or a badge or a pair of glasses.
so my headcanon is that sophie carries a few essential accessories wherever she goes. a scarf—around her neck or in her hair or tied to her bag. a large hairpin or ponytail for easy updoes. the perfect shade of red lipstick. expensive makeup wipes.
and a pair of heels.
sometimes she rotates items. maybe some extra jewelry, instant dry nailpolish, a hat, tights. the trick is to pack light. have multiple uses per item. dresses can become shirts or tunics. a necklace can be wrapped as bracelets. lipstick can be worn as rouge. a scarf can become a belt.
but sophie also has class. she likes the finer things in life. so her spare earrings might be 24 carat or diamonds. her scarf silk. her handbag the latest designer. she also invests in custom pieces—blazers with hidden pockets. reversible coats. convertible heels.
and yet. the greatest of sophie’s costumes have always been on-the-fly. someone’s glasses, a swiped labcoat, a briefcase. hair up, down, or covered. sunglasses, glasses, or contacts. which means she constantly scoping out everyone else’s clothes. what’s easy to nab. what’s been left unattended. who can I be with those pieces?
she deserves more credit. it’s not like it’s easy work. because she’s not just creating a wardrobe for herself—she’s decking out the whole team. and that means knowing their measurements. what cuts and fabrics are best for their respective roles. eliot and parker need room to move. hardison needs pockets for his gadgets.
and then of course, there’s the question of what clothes the team can share. parker and eliot are around the same height so they often swap coveralls—a pair that’s slightly too small on eliot will be just slightly too big on parker. for when eliot needs to be noticed and parker does not.
on that same vein, hardison and eliot have similar upper body builds. hardison likes to make the fbi or csi or tech coats (it’s just iron-on letters on bulk supply jackets) but sophie’s the one that knows which jackets the two men can swap. which roles they can both play during a con.
even parker and hardison have some overlap. parker has an uncanny ability to blend in with a crowd. throw one of hardison’s caps or hoodies on her and she just disappears.
and then of course there’s parker with herself. despite being the only women on the team they don’t share that many clothes. parker can slip into one of her spare dresses when needed. but their roles are often on opposite ends of the spectrum—sophie is supposed to be noticed. parker is not.
all of these variables are turning in sophie’s head at any given point in the con. she finds clothes that fit with standard personas, clothes that can overlap, and specialized clothes for their many aliases. but also…clothes that fit them.
because there are some codes you can’t switch. eliot’s aways a bit country—regardless if he’s a construction worker or a millionaire. parker can do high femme, but androgyny suits her better. and tho parker’s comfortable showing skin, she’s not with showing cleavage. of being sexualized. and then there’s hardison and his shoes. sophie will admit she didn’t know much about sneakers, but hardison was all to happy to infodump about them. so now she has a special collection just for him.
and then there’s nate. the bane of her fashionable existence. she’s given up on dressing him. his repeated choice of cartoonish bufoons (with hat) inexplicably seems to work. don’t ask her how or why because it defies all logic. she’s just happy when he starts wearing his day-to-day suits pressed and his shirts laundered.
anyhow. just sophie being sophie. a badass chameleon. who knows the difference between buttons and cufflinks. who can tell you when it is and isn’t appropriate to wear a hat. who can tell how much money you make by what watch you wear. who can spot a fake purse a mile away. who’s just a bit more than scary good at what she does.
which is read you for filth the instant she lays eyes on you. and then becomes anyone she wants to be.