Sunday 2 December 2012

For four weekends in a row, I had a dress up party on Saturday night.

I love dressing up. It's a chance to try on different personalities, along with different outfits.

I wore a different costume to every party, so thought I'd document the here, and humblebrag/provide some inspiration to someone out there.  

The first party was a music-themed Halloween: "The Day The Music Died." (I came up with the name. Kira said she'd been wracking her brain for months, and was tremendously annoyed I thought of the perfect name in two seconds. I said it was my tech writer skills: describing an idea in as few a words as possible.)

Josh and I went as rock and roll - as in, 'Rock and Roll is dead'.

Me, wearing cats-eye glasses, pearl earrings, and a blue floral dress, with a giant neck gash.
Josh, wearing a waistcoat, collared shirt and tie, staring vacantly into the middle distance, with his throat slashed.

We're wearing lots of face powder and eyeliner - the neck wounds are done with commercial fake blood and bits of toilet paper stuck in. They'd all flaked off by ten o'clock, but we had neck stains for days.

It is as pointless to try and describe parties as it is to describe dreams: so much of it is a vibe, an emotion half-felt. But at this party, there was a slushie-machine serving alcoholic slushies. There was candy corn, and for snacks we had "American Pie. I didn't recognise Amy Winehouse, even when she asked me to draw on her tattoos.


I joked, "I'm going to call my mum and tell her I used my BFA!" and then I said it three more times to different people, because that never fails to get a laugh. The saddest jokes are the funniest ones.

Peter and Bibi were there. I went to art school with them both. They have been together since first year. Bibi is slim, with dark hair that curls, and she paints like an angel. Peter has the widest smile you've ever seen. They've been together since first year. I haven't seen them since graduation, a day I spent trying not to cry. 

Everything went better than expected. I don't remember what I said, but I said to Kira: "I think Peter thinks I'm into scat now?" Kira said, "That's probably the best possible outcome."

And it probably was. 

Party 2/4 was in Wellington. Josh's sister and her fiance were hosting. We flew down because we are very dedicated to the partying lifestyle. (Not really: Josh wanted to see his sister; I felt like it had been too long since I'd been to Wellington.)

The theme was "Cosplay". I dressed up as the cat, because the Fiance draws a wee comic for his university magazine, in which the cat features:
 Me, wearing cats-eye glasses, cats ears, a cat tag on a necklace and with eyeliner-whiskers, holding a black cat with a white chest. I am wearing a black dress with a white cami - the same markings as the cat.
The cat wore a little bow tie, and was Tuxedo Mask from Salior Moon.

Josh was Professor Oak, largely because I had the lab coat in my wardrobe already. All these costumes were low or no-cost - cobbled together from bits and pieces we already had.

The Pokemon toy was an impulse buy - we were walking past a shop on the day of the party, and saw it in the window.
Josh, holding a Pokeball and a toy Pokemon, wearing a lab coat and a big smile.  
Honorable mention goes to Mermaid Man, who was friends with the hosts. We were fast friends for the first part of the evening. We took a walk to the bottle shop together (it was shut), and helped a blind guy, who was out with his dog and also wasted, find a curry. 
A man, with hands on hips and staunch expression, dressed as Mermaid Man from SpongeBob.
Party 3/4 was a thirteth: the theme was "Nerdy Thirty." I went as the Fail Whale. 

A screencap of the Twitter fail screen - the "Fail Whale".
 Me, dressed in a blue dress with green cardigan, holding a flock of orange paper birds over my head.


Do you see it? Hmmm. This costume was a joke on two levels: a fat joke against myself (in before anyone else!) and playing off my new job: Social Media Expert (really). It's the least successful of these costumes though - my head piece totally fell down. I took a couple of photos, tossed it, and just kept one bird pinned to my hair.

Everyone else's costumes were amazing: I felt like a dress up party fraud.

Party 4/4 was just themed "Halloween", even though by this time it was halfway through November. I went as Sexy Bento Box.

When I told the gang about it, they were incredulous: "Sometimes I wonder what it's like to live in your head," said Nat, "But then I think I don't want to know."

It was all perfectly cromulent though: several years ago I had attended a "B" themed party as a Bento Box, and, scrabbling around for costume ideas, thought it might be time to revive it. Except "sexy".

Me, smirking, with red lipstick and a bowl on a jaunty angle on my head.
What's cropped out of this photo is short skirt, fish nets and heels. The bowl is attached to a headband with Velcro: the little foods on the necklace are erasers from $3 Japan, and my hair is held back with chopsticks.

This final dress up party was the rowdiest. We drank gin-juice from my hair piece when the beers ran out, and sat, and talked, and laughed. It was one of the few times I have been sure, without a shadow of a doubt, that the hangover was worth it.

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