Halloween

We played dress-up at a party last night; Jen went as Zorro, Beth was Santa’s Little Whore, I masqueraded as Dame Edna Everage, and Mimi changed costumes at least three times, going first as a Siamese Twin with her buddy, then later, briefly dressing as a girl, until finally settling on a beard, flannel shirt, and feed cap to go as your generic redneck cousin, although some drunk guy at the fête insisted that she had to be Fidel Castro.

A good time was had by all, I think, as befits an occasion where you get to drink and dance and pretend to be somebody else. After a few beers, I got pretty into character and found myself able to toss off a few subversive observations I’d never have been able to were I not wearing a wig and a dress.

Oddly, even though the party was loaded with theater people, lots of them had no idea who I was supposed to be and apparently, I may have even annoyed a couple of the “professional” drag queens who were at the party with my affected voice and saucy mannerisms. Alas, no harm intended and I hope we’ll still be invited back next year.

Being as myopic as I am, I’ve always got to build my costume around the glasses; a few years ago, I went as Carol Channing, turning an old pair of spectacles into fabulous eyewear with glitter and hot glue; more recently, I dressed up as Homer Simpson’s neighbor, Ned Flanders, which was a big mistake: never go to a party as somebody so boring was the lesson I learned that time.

Somebody last night thought that I was Phyllis Diller which gave me my idea for next year’s costume; I just checked out old videos of here on YouTube; apparently she didn’t wear glasses, but I don’t think that’ll stop me. All I need is a cigarette holder, a miniskirt, and I’ll be set.