Well, so far the collar seems to inspire conversation only with bus drivers. Probably most of my parishoners haven't noticed a difference since they mostly see me on Sundays anyway.
I gave myself a snow day from the experiment today, not only because I wanted to be warm but also because I was going to the seminary for a workshop, and I've always been a bit irritated by people who wear their collars when they're spending the whole day with other clergy anyway. And in this case today, I knew I'd been in the company of a lot of lay professionals and volunteers, and I didn't want to be making (or be perceived to be making) any unintentional status statements.
The collar does make me more conscious of ways I may be breaking certain stereotypes:
What does it mean when the person in the collar waits for a bus?
What does it mean when, fumbling for change for bus fare, the person in the collar nearly knocks certain, um, personal hygiene items from her bag?
What does it mean that one of her clericals still has breast milk stains on it? (haven't worn that one in a while. . .)
No one else may know what that curious stain on the back of my shoulder is, but I immediately recognize it as ground up cracker mixed with saliva smeared there while my toddler gives me a hug good-bye in the morning. Both of my vocations mark me.