Halloween false(ie) start
October 13, 2007
Halloween is my favorite holiday. Nothing against Thanksgiving or Christmas, they’re great holidays in their own right. I just love Halloween.
When I was a kid, nothing on earth was better than dressing up like a pirate, witch or Little Red Riding Hood. Then, just because I did that, I would get candy! I would run up to perfect strangers’ houses, ring their door bells, look cute, and then, like magic, a shovel full of Pixie Stix, Smartees, Snickers, Milk Duds and Sugar Daddy’s would pour into my outstretched treat bag, or pillow case once I got older, wiser and greedier.
This was a pretty good gig for a little kid. So, as a teenager, I found this ritual hard to give up. It really wasn’t cool back then, for anyone over 11, to dress up and Trick-or-Treat. But my friends and I did. We couldn’t kick the intoxication of morphing into someone, or something else for a night. And candy, there was the candy!
The wearing of costumes on Halloween continued into adulthood for me. The more macabre the costume the better. And if you insisted on being something vampy or sexy, it had to at least be a dead or zombie version. I was once a dead Marilyn Monroe back in my twenties. My mom shook loose a perfect dress from the moth balls. It was tight fitting, had spaghetti straps, and was made out of some sort of greenish-blue, shark skin-type material. It was circa 1960, I believe. She also dug up some very retro pumps, also from the sixies. The ones with high heels and the pointy toes. Perfect!
I should mention that this retro dress was designed to be extremely tight, then blossomed on top, allowing for some fairly large breasts to dwell within. So, in order to fit into this dress properly, I was going to have to pad my bra a tad…ok a lot! Whatever.
At the party I attended that night, I was quite the hit. What with my blonde wig, tight dress, voluptuous curves (thank you padded bra,) and high heels, all the dudes wanted to dance with me. I danced the night away, shaking my bootie. Shakin’ it as if I really had it. That is until, at one point, I took a moment from all my boogying, to look down at the floor. Needed to check out how good my retro pumps looked whilst dancing. It was then that I noticed some people kicking at a couple of small white objects. Some kind of party game, I guessed. After a little time passed, I realized that I hadn’t been asked to dance in a while. I ponderd this a bit, when it dawned on me suddenly. The white objects being shuffled around the dance floor were the pads from my bra! My voluptuousness, my, my Marilyn Monroe-ness! My ego and my chest both deflated.
I still love Halloween. Just need to use better adhesive.