I think I looked more 1940s with the placeholder scarf than with the curls, but AK pointed out that the look I was going for was femme fatale, not war bride.
Sort of Veronica Lake-ish?
Here’s Veronica Lake making a public service announcement to all the Rosie the Riveters out there, telling them not to wear their hair like hers.
We hit the reading at the Last Bookstore and although the lit crawl that was to follow sort of disintegrated, we met up with Pedro, Stephen, Christine and Jody (below, as cheerleader) at Spring Street Bar. It turned out to be the perfect vantage point for watching costumed revelers. Some club nearby was having a big thing, and the stream of “sexy [fill in the blank]” got thicker and thicker.
Our favorites, though, were the two beautiful and sexy (not “sexy”) girls in calavera makeup at the other end of our table, and a wacky girl whom we guessed was a…devil cat with a big butt? She was wearing furry green horns and a matching tail, and had stuffed balloons in the back of her velour pants.
She showed us a small sign that said “Bronty the VegeSCAREian.” “See, I’m a brontosaurus!” she said, and proceeded to do her impression of one, which involved roaring and pawing at the air.
There was also a lion carrying strings of marshmallows and a rifle. I had a vague but visceral flashback to third grade, when Mr. Rosenbaum read us Lafcadio, the Lion Who Shot Back. Christine tested it out: “Lafcadio!”
The lion cheered. His friend said, “Wow, I was just saying, 'Does anyone know who the fuck you are?'” I like to think we made the lion's night.
Other than that, you know that whole don’t-be-racist costume campaign? I am in agreement, but I also had the thought, Yeah, but who really dresses up as an Indian or a terrorist? Plenty of people, as it turns out, and a lot of them were in line for the club thing.
We moved on to JP’s annual amazing Gothtober party, where the costumes were brilliant and bizarre, sometimes nearly naked and occasionally sexual but usually not “sexy.” This was a crowd who viewed their bodies in terms of performance potential.
Earlier in the night, when we’d seen a Dr. Frankenfurter with a pretty impressive upper body, I’d thought of this girl I’d gone to grad school with who had these crazy ripped biceps. At JP’s, that same girl (who may or may not be identifying as a girl these days) was playing Dr. Frakenfurter in several elaborate vignettes in the middle of the dance floor/living room.
Flipping gender (and other goofy constructs) on its head and then back again and then turning it sideways is exactly what Halloween should be about. That and candy, of course.