By far and away my favourite festival of the year, Halloween has been steadily growing in the UK for some time, gravitating from humble trick-or-treat beginnings to full-blown crazy party madness that some, (including myself), plan 365 days in advance. No sooner has the dawn crept up on the 1st November than I am plotting next years costume. Last year was an epic fail in Honduras, having only my kilt to wear, so I was determined to make a decent…ahem…stab…for my current effort in the Czech Republic. About a month ago I ordered yellow contact lenses, utilsing my tried, tested and successful Edward Cullen. Yes I hate Twilight and all that sparkly vampire crap, but this is easy to do and it gets the housewives interested.
The lenses have not shown up come Halloween morn. I’m in a fit of rage, with the party excitement building and people spending days, if not weeks on their costumes. Of course traveling you’re at something of a loss anyway, as most don’t carry round a ready-made outfit in their gear, so with another disappointment looming, I launch myself into town to find a back up.
Perhaps it’s the (failed) actor in me, but I always need to go movie quality. I can’t just rub a bit of paint on my face, stick a bolt on my neck and claim I’m Frankenstein’s monster. Nor can I ever go as anything like a tomato. Fuck going to Halloween dressed as a tomato. Call it egotism, vanity, being bit of a wanker or what you will, but I need to look decent. A 50p mask and a bed sheet will not do. Interesting then that I manage to pull a costume out of the bag, yet you cannot even see my face. The Invisible Man. There’s ironic comments to be had here a plenty but I’ll leave them up to you.
Standing unrecognisable at the tram stop and I spot ‘perfect date girl’ hanging out with some friends. I contemplate a wave, but feel that it might look more than a bit creepy. I’m also quite thrilled at the power of the ‘invisibility’. In the wake of drunken fights and messy relations, autonomy is a valuable weapon. Why I’ve never thought of this before is beyond me. Imagine a walk of shame dressed like this? What walk of shame?! Walk of glorious nonentity!
Even more ironic, is the fact that this costume is getting me more interest than Edward ever did. I miss the fancy dress competition by a few minutes, which is a shame considering many commented that I would have won it. I’m talking to more girls that have no idea what I look like that is actually comprehensible Perhaps it’s the mystery, perhaps it’s the accuracy of the costume, perhaps it’s because they can’t see my face.
It was up there with one of the most entertaining All Hallows Eve’s I have attended. Hanging out with Jesus, Ginny Weasley and a Werewolf was pretty cool, and not being able to see a thing, drinking through a straw and sweating my head off was a costume milestone for me. I was just hoping that when the bandages were peeled away, I wouldn’t be so invisible. Next year I’m going as a fart in the wind.
Halloween
By far and away my favourite festival of the year, Halloween has been steadily growing in the UK for some time, gravitating from humble trick-or-treat beginnings to full-blown crazy party madness that some, (including myself), plan 365 days in advance. No sooner has the dawn crept up on the 1st November than I am plotting next years costume. Last year was an epic fail in Honduras, having only my kilt to wear, so I was determined to make a decent…ahem…stab…for my current effort in the Czech Republic. About a month ago I ordered yellow contact lenses, utilsing my tried, tested and successful Edward Cullen. Yes I hate Twilight and all that sparkly vampire crap, but this is easy to do and it gets the housewives interested.
The lenses have not shown up come Halloween morn. I’m in a fit of rage, with the party excitement building and people spending days, if not weeks on their costumes. Of course traveling you’re at something of a loss anyway, as most don’t carry round a ready-made outfit in their gear, so with another disappointment looming, I launch myself into town to find a back up.
Perhaps it’s the (failed) actor in me, but I always need to go movie quality. I can’t just rub a bit of paint on my face, stick a bolt on my neck and claim I’m Frankenstein’s monster. Nor can I ever go as anything like a tomato. Fuck going to Halloween dressed as a tomato. Call it egotism, vanity, being bit of a wanker or what you will, but I need to look decent. A 50p mask and a bed sheet will not do. Interesting then that I manage to pull a costume out of the bag, yet you cannot even see my face. The Invisible Man. There’s ironic comments to be had here a plenty but I’ll leave them up to you.
Standing unrecognisable at the tram stop and I spot ‘perfect date girl’ hanging out with some friends. I contemplate a wave, but feel that it might look more than a bit creepy. I’m also quite thrilled at the power of the ‘invisibility’. In the wake of drunken fights and messy relations, autonomy is a valuable weapon. Why I’ve never thought of this before is beyond me. Imagine a walk of shame dressed like this? What walk of shame?! Walk of glorious nonentity!
Even more ironic, is the fact that this costume is getting me more interest than Edward ever did. I miss the fancy dress competition by a few minutes, which is a shame considering many commented that I would have won it. I’m talking to more girls that have no idea what I look like that is actually comprehensible Perhaps it’s the mystery, perhaps it’s the accuracy of the costume, perhaps it’s because they can’t see my face.
It was up there with one of the most entertaining All Hallows Eve’s I have attended. Hanging out with Jesus, Ginny Weasley and a Werewolf was pretty cool, and not being able to see a thing, drinking through a straw and sweating my head off was a costume milestone for me. I was just hoping that when the bandages were peeled away, I wouldn’t be so invisible. Next year I’m going as a fart in the wind.