Trying to win a first Assembly seat for Sinn Féin in leafy south Belfast can be a balancing act. Touring polling stations yesterday, candidate Alex Maskey wore a sharp suit, but with a duffel coat on top, writes Suzanne Breen in Belfast.
"Typical Sinn Féin - trying to be all things to all people," complained an SDLP canvasser.
"Typical SDLP moaning, Alex is just trying to look smart and keep warm," retorted a Sinn Féin member.
Over in west Belfast, there was hardly an SDLP canvasser in sight. "They don't appear until tea-time. They reckon all their voters have jobs and don't come out until then," claimed a Sinn Féin activist.
It was a cold, rainy day. Sinn Féin seemed to have equipped its workers with black monkey hats. Combined with shell suits, it could give the wrong impression.
A rather posh woman surveyed the Sinn Féin team outside a polling station on the Glen Road. "Will it be safe to leave the car here while we go in to vote?" she asked her husband.
At Glengoland polling station, the former 'OC' of the IRA's Belfast Brigade, who now sits on the Army Council, discussed voter turn-out with Sinn Féin workers.
But times are changing. At the Whiterock Road polling station, two police officers chatted and joked while a band of Shinners stood just three feet away. Everybody looked relaxed.
At Sinn Féin's Andersonstown Road headquarters, former Health Minister Bairbe de Brún sat in the back of a parked car. "She must be waiting for her chauffeur," quipped a cynical republican.
A blind man who voted at De La Salle in Andersonstown said his wife had filled in the ballot paper for him. His only regret was that his guide dog didn't have a vote.
Across the peaceline, the Shankill was remarkably subdued. Even Progressive Unionist Party workers, who normally flood the area, were sparse on the ground.
The liveliest interaction was outside a shop that had just put Christmas trees on sale. "Trimble won't have to wait for Santa to bring his big surprise. We will deliver that tomorrow," predicted a DUP supporter.
The man working in the Union Jack souvenir shop on east Belfast's Newtownards Road complained that no candidates had dropped by. "They haven't even canvassed us, let alone bought a flag," he said.
On the middle-class Belmont Road - where some residents have their wheelie bins covered in floral-patterned adhesive vinyl - relations were most courteous between the two big unionist parties at the polling station. A DUP worker exchanged polite conversation with a UUP woman.
Down the road at Mersey Street polling station, a young DUP woman was the sole representative of any party. "It's freezing. I've been here seven hours. I'm either very committed or very mad," she joked.