Halloween is one of my favorite holidays - can you call it a holiday? - of the year, and much thought and care goes into my costumes. Often, women tend to throw clever out the window and use Halloween as an opportunity to dress slutty (Meangirls, anyone?) by donning some fishnets, a bustier, and maybe some ears or horns. Guys on the other hand usually just slap on a fake mustache and polyester jacket and call themselves a pimp, or this year, Ron Burgundy.
That's not really my speed. Like the good, nerdy journalist I am, I like to look to the headlines for inspiration.
This year, my friend CK and I dressed as the bird flu. We crafted chicken wings tied to our arms and an orange feather plume and tail. Then we wrapped ourselves in bathrobes, slid on a pair of slippers and made a necklace of flu medication labels. The kicker was wearing medicine bottles around our necks with the word Tamiflu scrawled over it.
Most folks got it, and thought it was hysterical. One guy who didn't revealed he hadn't read a newspaper since 2001 (that was the end of that conversation) and another girl stared at me blankly and then said quite frankly she had never heard of the bird flu and had no idea what I was talking about. (My screaming, "But it's a pandemic!" - our catch phrase for the night - did little to jog her memory.)
Other amazing costumes of the night included donning a homemade pair of waders (you know, those tall rubber boots for fishing) and carrying an oar to be Roe v. Wade. Another friend of mine wore a hot black dress with a red bow and a tag that read "To: Men, From: God")
Sunday, October 30, 2005
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7 comments:
I was one such brilliant person who got your costume and thought it was a-maze-ing! (BTW: why not post one of your fantastic pictures here so the rest of the world can see your clever hotness?)
Oh! And uh, don't knock the illiterate degenerate who hasn't read a paper since 2001 - he happens to be hot... and an amazing dance-floor kisser.
I'm just sayin'.
Dear Sara,
I hate the South. Tennessee was pretty nice, though.
Also, I stayed at a woderful resort in northern Georgia called Barnsley Gardens. It was beautiful.
I really hate grits.
The confederacy is weird.
Love,
P
Oh PF. If you hate the South, you don't know the South.
Don't know about grits, but had sweet potato fries in the Ark. Were dayamn good.
what happened to the pirate?
what? pirate? that never made the short list. It was between bird flu, Katie Holmes and a girl scout gone bad.
Dear Sara,
I was almost run off the road by a large Chevrolet with a giant confederate flag on the rear window and a confederate flag license plate... all this simply because of my northern plates.
I like the BBQ in the South, however. And sweet tea.
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