Dressing up for Halloween is a bitch. I mean witch.

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"Jazz, I want to be something HARDCORE. Like fucking dark", I said to my friend as she lay on the bed tapping away at her keyboard.

"You should be a cyborg!" she exclaimed, not looking at me.

"No one here knows Star Trek.." I mused. Jazz obviously didn't either as she glanced at me like I was a freak and continued to show me cyborg makeup.

"Okay, let's Google hardcore blondes", she said.

Porn. More porn.

Hot blonde costumes? Porn.

Damnit.

Halloween is stressful. Thanksgiving is a mind melting day of cooking and forced togetherness with family and Christmas present shopping can make you feel like the world is ending, in the way that people are grabbing Barbie dolls and mega trucks as if their lives depended on it, but choosing a Halloween costume is stressful enough to cause a brain embolism. Your very character, your inner most soul is going to be summed up in one day, in one costume. You damn well better make someone laugh, scream, or want to hump you in that outfit or it wasn't worth it.

Okay. I know this is dramatic. These aren't the words of a sane person though. This is what runs through my mind when Halloween is in two weeks, Google has given me nothing, and all my friends can suggest is that I go as "Oscar the Whore." A slutty Sesame Street character is all these university graduates can give me. Every damn year I say, "THIS will be the year I think ahead and have an amazing, hilarious, and gorgeous costume". Every year I end up as an 80's chick or some variation of a flapper or hippie. Bright colors, flowers, and sequin headbands are something I can't escape. The most out-of-the-box Halloween costume I've ever had was that of the scorned wife of an inmate. Basically, it was the day of Halloween, we were drunk, and there was a costume box. I ended up looking like Deborah Harry with a shitty tat.

Magnificent feathers of multiple colors and jewel tones were strewn across Jazz's bed. Probably 50,000 won worth of peacock feathers and feathers that came from birds I don't think exist. Jazz glowed as she grinned, "I'm going to look amazing." She was going as a peacock. Yeah, I'd been a peacock once. I put on a turquoise dress and stuck a feather in it. Jazz looked like she was going to be walking down a runway.

"So, let's look up some siren makeup for you!" she said trying to take attention away from the fact that her costume obviously ruled and my eyes were getting bulgy. She'd given me the idea to be a siren from Greek mythology which I loved because I adore Homer's Odyssey and bringing men to destruction through song seemed delightful. "Yeah man, I'll be a badass island dwelling seductress killing ship bound men, watch me now!" I thought wickedly.

Fast forward to me in sea green heels, a vermilion dress, gold jewels, shells, feathers and flowers. Pretty as a picture, dull as a museum of them. I somehow ended up looking like a mash-up of Calypso and a bohemian who would probably play the tambourine.

Next year, man. Next year. THAT will be the year.

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Photos

the peacock gloating.
oh and me...i'm the one who doesn't look like she's wearing a costume