[Rift_0f_Bladz]

And I personally don't like the armored vest. But I have not rolled a face character, and if I did I would either use an armored jacket or many of the armors from Run N' Gun. But this is due to personal preference and liking an armor value of around 12 before mods. But generally the best armor depends on where you are and what you expected to be the common weapons used by the opposition. Light pistols and clubs (no ap) lighter armors like the armored vests or urban explorer are fine. Heavy pistols, sub machine guns, low ap melee weapons, armored jacket should be good. High AP melee weapons, such as combat knife, katana, combat axe, or claymore and heavy hitting (and decent to high ap) range weapons, such as assault rifles, shotguns, and sniper rifles bring the heaviest legal armor you have. High end military grade weapons equate to similar levels of armor. Adding APDS only helps reinforce the idea of heavier armors.

Ruthureum Polymer Coating at a decent rating is also helpful in hiding (but extremely expensive). Part of the draw for Sleeping Tiger is it comes with RPC at Rating 3.

As for hiding your face well there are two options: Caster via mask spells (physical mask is better) or disguise skill. An adept has extra option to bring to the basic disguise skill, but still needs it (if you are worried about your face going all over the matrix).

[Shaidar]

Long time gamer only diagnosed Auspie 7 years ago.

Unfortunately with the drastic stratification of the society of the 6th World no single set of armor is going to fit everywhere. On topic, most of your utility disguise wear is going to fall into the Armored Clothing. To which you specify what look/style the individual items have.

You could buy many sets of Armor Clothing call one set Barrens Street Style, another set Up-Scale Mall Rat, and so on. Wear a suit of Form-Fitting underneath, just watch the encumbrance (SR5 Core 169).

[Csjarrat]

Always worth having multiple outfits. no one outfit will work everywhere aside from under-armour like second skin/FFBA.
aside from those options, i'd have an armoured suit, a high fashion option from RnG for fitting in in nice areas, rapid transit or lined coat equivalents for the slums and armoured clothing for walking the dog on a sunday morning.
I also start every character with three sets of clothes at different price points: cheapo ones for low end places and then scaling in price up to formal wear.
you're set and sorted that way!
If budget is an issue though, grab the second skin/FFBA and wear it under your clothing.
couple ranks of chem protect, couple ranks of non-conduct and you're well covered for most situations

[Spooky]

I usually have electrochromatic modification on my long coat, as that means I can make my coat look like a second hand reject, a high fashion show piece, or anything in between. Works well for blending into various locales.

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

Or, for the mystically inclined amongst us, the holy triumvirate of disguise spells: Fashion, Makeover/Healthy Glow, and my own reversal of the latter pair, 'Dirty Old Man' - which does the same thing, just in reverse, for making you look down-and-out.

[psycho835]

You called a spell "Dirty Old Man"...?

[Spooky]

Look at who said that, psycho835. Look carefully, and back away slowly.... ;-)

[Reaver]

You called a spell "Dirty Old Man"...?

and in a few dozen years, you will be one too.

(or, a dirty ol' cougar?)

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

I did.  The character who invented it - Piotr, aka Shivowtnoeh, in Panagutan - would masquerade as a bum, because everybody ignores the ever-present-in-the-Sixth-World bum.  Ahh, here we go:

            Arriving early and putting in an early appearance are two different things. The Russian arrived early, moving slowly and drifting in along with the other vagabonds and human detritus that littered the district like so many ... well, Nuk-It burger wrappers. Blown by more winds than those off Puget Sound, they sheltered in empty doorways, under bridges, and inside the occasional abandoned building. If you look like something threatening, they usually cower away, but if you look like them, and shuffle/plod instead of stepping lively, they tend to ignore you, treating you as one of their own pitiable society. Using them as stalking goats and cover, Shivowtnoeh drifted in early. Only a few 'little friends' accompanied him; armored rescue, an eye in the sky, a couple of other smaller guests here and ... down below.
            Keeping physical as well as electronic eyes and ears peeled, he studies the entrants each individually as they arrive, then their interactions as they pass the ork at the door. Thoughtfully, he refrains from stepping through the gate just yet, remaining on-post amongst the street slobs.
            [ Shivowtnoeh observes several potential teammates arrive, and the Johnson's bodyguard-cum-doorman leer and the like. ]
            A couple minutes after everyone had stepped inside, the jack of all trades nods slightly to himself. Standing, he shuffles around his cover, heading towards and through the gate. Approaching the ork, he takes off neither the tattered greatcoat, the fingerless gloves, nor the battered hat that serve as his disguise.
            A feral snear leaps to the orks features as his shotgun swings out. "Beat it streat-meat. This ain't no soup kitchen!"
            "Amazing." Though accented, the word is spoken clearly, without the slurring common to drunks, druggies, or chipheads. There is a bare three heartbeats' pause as he reaches up, 'wiping away' the grime and stench of vagabondage. "I thought it would take a natural disaster to get you to do your job." One hand lifts, a coppery gleam showing for a moment along the outer forearm as he shrugs his coat several times during his slow walk. Peculiarly, it settles from a toker's tattered smoke-holed duster to a deep blue greatcoat of the naval cut the Vory v Zakone' prefer. "You seemed to enjoy ogling the females thoroughly enough," he adds, adjusting the tattered-hat-turned-sailor's-cap topping his head. "Permit me to recommend you use courtesy whenever you encounter someone. You never know who you'll meet. A cute girl could be heavily cyberneticised. An old man could be a mage. Who knows? I would be willing to bet that either one of the ladies you leered at might have taken offense, and could enforce her offense before you could blink twice." He pauses, slowly opening the coat outwards to display the heavy shotgun-caliber weapon hanging on the inside, and the fact that he's reaching for the pocket above it to extract cigarettes. "Or once," he adds, with the first exhale of smoke. "The name on the list is Mr. Dobrynyev. Check your list, and quickly. I'm walking in late as it is."
            A look of consternation, followed by irritation crosses the orks face, as he slowly lowers the shotgun and checks the pro-offered name against his datapad. Frowning, he jerks his head at the door, "If you're late, them maybe you shouldn't have been skulking around in the shadows."
            'Mr. Dobrynyev' merely smiles. "This is not a corporate business meeting, comrade, and I am not a nine-to-five salaryman. If you think that I should be, then perhaps you and I might discuss it ... afterwards. In the meantime, do your job, and do not involve yourself with mine." With a smile that isn't exactly friendly, he passes through the door.

If you get a minute, less, of lead time, you can quite effectively vanish by looking (and smelling!!) like someone homeless.

[psycho835]

Look carefully, and back away slowly.... ;-)

Why? Afraid I'll spook someone out?

and in a few dozen years, you will be one too.

(or, a dirty ol' cougar?)

You mean something like that?

I did.  The character who invented it - Piotr, aka Shivowtnoeh, in Panagutan - would masquerade as a bum, because everybody ignores the ever-present-in-the-Sixth-World bum.  Ahh, here we go:

            Arriving early and putting in an early appearance are two different things. The Russian arrived early, moving slowly and drifting in along with the other vagabonds and human detritus that littered the district like so many ... well, Nuk-It burger wrappers. Blown by more winds than those off Puget Sound, they sheltered in empty doorways, under bridges, and inside the occasional abandoned building. If you look like something threatening, they usually cower away, but if you look like them, and shuffle/plod instead of stepping lively, they tend to ignore you, treating you as one of their own pitiable society. Using them as stalking goats and cover, Shivowtnoeh drifted in early. Only a few 'little friends' accompanied him; armored rescue, an eye in the sky, a couple of other smaller guests here and ... down below.
            Keeping physical as well as electronic eyes and ears peeled, he studies the entrants each individually as they arrive, then their interactions as they pass the ork at the door. Thoughtfully, he refrains from stepping through the gate just yet, remaining on-post amongst the street slobs.
            [ Shivowtnoeh observes several potential teammates arrive, and the Johnson's bodyguard-cum-doorman leer and the like. ]
            A couple minutes after everyone had stepped inside, the jack of all trades nods slightly to himself. Standing, he shuffles around his cover, heading towards and through the gate. Approaching the ork, he takes off neither the tattered greatcoat, the fingerless gloves, nor the battered hat that serve as his disguise.
            A feral snear leaps to the orks features as his shotgun swings out. "Beat it streat-meat. This ain't no soup kitchen!"
            "Amazing." Though accented, the word is spoken clearly, without the slurring common to drunks, druggies, or chipheads. There is a bare three heartbeats' pause as he reaches up, 'wiping away' the grime and stench of vagabondage. "I thought it would take a natural disaster to get you to do your job." One hand lifts, a coppery gleam showing for a moment along the outer forearm as he shrugs his coat several times during his slow walk. Peculiarly, it settles from a toker's tattered smoke-holed duster to a deep blue greatcoat of the naval cut the Vory v Zakone' prefer. "You seemed to enjoy ogling the females thoroughly enough," he adds, adjusting the tattered-hat-turned-sailor's-cap topping his head. "Permit me to recommend you use courtesy whenever you encounter someone. You never know who you'll meet. A cute girl could be heavily cyberneticised. An old man could be a mage. Who knows? I would be willing to bet that either one of the ladies you leered at might have taken offense, and could enforce her offense before you could blink twice." He pauses, slowly opening the coat outwards to display the heavy shotgun-caliber weapon hanging on the inside, and the fact that he's reaching for the pocket above it to extract cigarettes. "Or once," he adds, with the first exhale of smoke. "The name on the list is Mr. Dobrynyev. Check your list, and quickly. I'm walking in late as it is."
            A look of consternation, followed by irritation crosses the orks face, as he slowly lowers the shotgun and checks the pro-offered name against his datapad. Frowning, he jerks his head at the door, "If you're late, them maybe you shouldn't have been skulking around in the shadows."
            'Mr. Dobrynyev' merely smiles. "This is not a corporate business meeting, comrade, and I am not a nine-to-five salaryman. If you think that I should be, then perhaps you and I might discuss it ... afterwards. In the meantime, do your job, and do not involve yourself with mine." With a smile that isn't exactly friendly, he passes through the door.

If you get a minute, less, of lead time, you can quite effectively vanish by looking (and smelling!!) like someone homeless.

Yeah, I know it's useful, but seriously... "Dirty Old Man"?

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

I don't hear anyone complaining about David Bowie look-alikes with 'Fashion', y'know?  No, Shadowrun spells tend to be descriptive of what the dang thing does.  "Turns you into a dirty old man."  Not my fault everyone's got this idea. 

[psycho835]

I don't hear anyone complaining about David Bowie look-alikes with 'Fashion', y'know?

Don't get the David Bowie reference, sorry.

No, Shadowrun spells tend to be descriptive of what the dang thing does.  "Turns you into a dirty old man."  Not my fault everyone's got this idea. 

But that's EXACTLY my point! "Dirty Old Man" sounds like it turns you into the gent from the picture. You should have named it...
...
...
...yyy...
...hmm...
...
Hobo-ficator!
...
Oh, shut up, it's awesome and you know it.

[Namikaze]

I don't hear anyone complaining about David Bowie look-alikes with 'Fashion', y'know?

Don't get the David Bowie reference, sorry.

*mind boggles*

Fashion, by David Bowie

[The Wyrm Ouroboros]

We are the goon squad and we're coming to town.  Beep beep.

[Spooky]

Look carefully, and back away slowly.... ;-)

Why? Afraid I'll spook someone out?

Nope, just a friendly warning about dealing with a ...wyrm.