Another day, another bop (yep, I still feel daft calling it that; like I should be wearing underoos and lindy-hopping). Wanting to do gory makeup and combat the high wind chill factor (ie. no scantily-claddedness for us!), my friends and I went dressed as zombie schoolgirls.
Ah the costume party. Is there any greater pleasure? Besides fresh creamery butter and Hugh Jackman, I think not.
Every Halloween it seems like the same article gets trolled out, disparaging the girl who uses it as an excuse to dress in lingerie under the (literally) thinly-veiled pretence of being like, a woodland creature or emergency services worker.
Personally, I have no problem with that approach. As the inimitable Nora Ephron said: “Oh, how I regret not having worn a bikini for the entire year I was twenty-six. If anyone young is reading this, go, right this minute, put on a bikini, and don’t take it off until you’re thirty-four.” Unless you’re Helen Mirren, chances are your body and enthusiasm for dressing up (ok, down) are only going to wane. So why not embrace the lace, say oui to PVC and flash some flesh? (Now there’s a cereal jingle in the making) Continue reading