The temperature has finally dipped below 70, so that means fall fever has hit. I’m not immune to this phenomenon, in fact, I may be more susceptible to trends than most. I sense the slightest chill in the air and my mouth starts watering for pumpkin-spice flavored…anything, really. I love fall. I love the necessity to wear layers, I love boots, I love the smell of the fresh air and the fact that it’s not obligatory to be outdoors as much. I love Halloween.
Halloween is my favorite holiday because it involves costume, candy and loads of makeup. It’s basically the one day a year I get to be a drag queen. It’s also the time of year I majorly stress about costume choice. I always try to be at least a little bit funny/original while still maintaining the required level of slut-factor. Basically, if I can’t wear fishnets and fake eyelashes, I’m not interested. I tend to cleverly disguise my blatant slutercizing in punchline costumes, most of which, in recent years, have related directly to what hairstyle I have at the time. When I was growing out my bangs I dressed as “Extra Virgin Olive Oyl”. With a super-short pompadour I femmed up “Big Boy” (of restaurant fame). With an awkward shaved side and mohawk, I got smart and threw on a pink wig, becoming Jem from Jem and the Holograms. It was truly outrageous. When it was time to grow out that awkward shaved side and mohawk, I took advantage of the shag and dressed as Edward (Edwina?) Scissorhands. And yes, I wore fake eyelashes throughout it all.
Now, however, I’m a little chunkier than I used to be. My curves have turned into wide turns and it gets harder to throw sexy in the mix without giving someone a craving for cottage cheese. So with that in mind I thought I’d try dressing up as “Katy Perry, ten years from now”. Even though we’re technically the same age, KP looks like a precocious teenager who out-perks herself every day while I lament over an unfair amount of gray hair and hoist my lady lumps up to a socially acceptable latitude. But I’m optimistic. I predict that the second her cotton candy-fueled fame train runs out of sugar and auto-tune, she’ll fall apart quicker than her marriage to Russel Brand. Double D’s can’t defy gravity forever, Katy! It seems like a good use of my sagging fluffy bits and blunt bangs to capitalize on what I’m sure will be the hilarity of her future undoing, for strictly Halloween purposes. Plus, I’ve always wanted an excuse to wear candy and cupcakes as clothing.
In the past, my joke costumes have required me to wear some sort of signage to alert the general public to my hilarity and I’m sure this will be no different. When I combined angel wings, devil horns, a kitty tail, a cheerleader skirt, fishnets (obvi) and a French maid’s garter, I also had to wear a t-shirt that said “Every F-ing Girl, Ever”. And it was still confusing to people. When I dressed as “Extra Virgin Olive Oyl”, I plastered a “no entry” sign to the downstairs of my Popeye-loving costume and still had to explain myself. I’m open to suggestions about how to not-so-subtly let the public know that I’m dressed as Katy Kat after years of “letting herself go” and assure them that I’m not gross and delusional. Well, not delusional, anyway.
I guess I still need to think on it. Here’s to fall. My favorite season and my favorite holiday. Bring on the lash adhesive and the pumpkin spice!