Yvette and I walked around The Halloween Superstore yesterday, looking for scary lawn accoutrement and one child-size pair of Harry Potter glasses. Since I can fit into a boy's size Hogwart's cape, I thought this might be a decent choice, come Halloween party time. One red and yellow scarf? Check. One black wizard cape? Check check. One pair of unattractive black wire frame glasses? Check plus. It's easy, it's recognizable and it's incredibly nerdy.
Yvette is still undecided about her costume and the superstore wasn't helping matters. She completely shot down the Bacon and Eggs couples costume party pack. I also wanted to be Tim Gunn and thought she'd make a fantastic Heidi Klum. Again, denied. So now I'm a prepubescent wizard geek and she's lacking inspiration.
According to the women's costume section, you're not properly costumed unless you are sporting significant cleveland. We're talking cleveland the size of Ohio - along with bare midriff. My Harry Potter costume ranks somewhere between negative 18 and negative 28 on the sex kitten scale. The only other costume I saw that comes close would be the female version of "DOG - The Bounty Hunter." Those ankle boots alone make me want to go into hiding.
The fact that I'll be sporting A) a boy's costume and B) will not show skin - won't win me any prizes. But how many 33 year-old women could trick or treat with the neighbors and go virtually undetected?
I say virtually, because I could say something other than "trick or treat" and ruin the whole guise. Something as innocent as "Shit. This Butterfinger will go straight to my ass" would mean the jig is up. I could probably step out and collect ring pops and candy corn till the cows come home. And when they do, they can have all of the nasty candy corn they want. I hate candy corn. Not quite a candy and nothing at all like corn, this treat needs a new name. Nasty Corn? How about the combination of the two - Norn.
In 7th Grade, I won a prize for Best Costume at good ol' Ben Franklin Middle School. Back in the days before PC was a household word, I came dressed as an "Alcoholic, Unemployed Newscaster." Wore a scary mask, stuffed a pillow under my shirt and walked around with a bottle in a brown bag all day. God bless the eighties. I think our costume choices need to take a cue from the 80's. Ugly witches, Scary Vampires, Bagladies, Hairy Cavewomen, Sarah Palin, you get the idea. In sharp contrast, here's a snapshot of the Halloween Superstore wall, brought to you by Dr. 90210:
For $45 you too can be a Galactic Princess! In the land of 10,000 Lakes, you're also entitled to frost bitten nipples, free of charge.
What's that you say? Feeling under the weather? Naughty Nurse Nancy is here to cure you of your latex allergy. (Best to seek advice on how to walk in these drag queen kicks from Miss J Alexander first. Looks like you'll be walking on the third floor with these on.)
This is a nice one that I call: Stop! Or I'll HOOCH! Sandy is right at home in this uniform, whether she's chasing down deadbeats or swinging her batons on the stripper pole. Let's face facts. If the PoPo of the female persuasion really dressed like this, I'd watch COPS on a daily basis. Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Whatchyagonnadoooo, Whatchyagonnadooo when they come for you. I know what I'd do - and I'm not telling.