Saturday night there was a reunion dance at the clubhouse. It featured music from the '70s, '80s and '90s and you were supposed to dress in what you wore back then. The Goth girls of the '90s were the scariest in their short, black leather getups with black bustiers, fishnet stockings and black lipstick. Their hair stuck up like the a rooster's combs. Some wore white makeup, which added to the creepy factor.
(Flashback to my days as Mom the Chauffeur: One Halloween after school I picked Katie and a neighbor boy up from high school. Danny asked if I'd give his friend a ride home, too. The guy had on classic Goth -- total black all the way down to his black fingernail polish and spiked leather choker. It was truly frightening and I raved about his outfit the entire time until I dropped him off. Then Danny said, "Mrs. Z., he wasn't wearing a costume.")
Back to the present:
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| Groovy! |
Jerry wore what Jerry has worn every day for the entire time I have known him, blue jeans and a tee shirt. It was probably the most authentic costume at the event. On the other hand, I wore a flower in my hair, my wire rims, beige lipstick and a maternity outfit.
In our group,Rita was the clear winner - she had on a jean jacket, beads, a head band and John Lennon round shades, tinted bright blue. Classic biker Mama.
We danced. I twisted, ponied, monkeyed, swam, bumped and even did the jerk. Jerry and I busted out some of our swing moves and also fox trotted. Finally those three years of dance classes obviously paid off! One..two...three... One...two...three...
The last time we did so much dancing was in the '80s. We'd round up our neighbors and head over to the Dillsboro Civic Center on Saturday nights and have ourselves some big fun. The rooms were smokier back then, but the band didn't seem as loud.
When the party was over we came home, set our clocks ahead and went right to sleep. It was easy to wake up in the morning, but it wasn't easy to get up. Funny, I don't remember being this sore forty years ago.
We have a neighborhood Halloween party tonight and Jerry has selfishly declared that he is going to be Glinda the Good Witch yet again.
This story starts the summer three years ago on a Saturday morning. I love to go saling (yard saling) and that is where I found THE DRESS. I stumbled across this fabulous costume at a school fundraising sale and it was priced to sell, too. I was sooooo excited! All little girls dream of being beautiful princesses, don't they? I certainly did and still do, so a pink dress made of thousands of yards of tulle with silver sparkles and puffy sleeves really spoke to me. The tag inside said "one size fits all" and that clinched it for me. I bought my prize and brought it home.
The thrill was short-lived because when I tried on Glinda's gown, I couldn't zip it all the way. Now this brought up a disturbing question. If "one size" truly "fits all" then where does that leave me? I will be the first to admit that I could use to lose a few pounds, but I've never shopped at the big girls' shops, either. Truth is, I consider myself mildly overweight, not morbidly obese. Clearly the Chinese factory worker didn't agree - and compared to her I probably am pretty danged big - but this outfit had English writing on the tag, so obviously it was meant for an American audience. The dress was about a foot too long for me so I know it wasn't made for a child either.
Halloween rolled around. Our daughter Jessica and her new husband Brent came to help pass out candy. I dressed Brent up as a flashy pimp. He wore a bright red vest with sequins and a huge blue hat with an ostrich feather. He wasn't too enthused about getting dressed up but after he saw how cool he looked, he kind of got into it. I made Jessica "his girl" with a mink stole and a long sexy gown. Since I couldn't wear my outfit because it wouldn't zip, I wore my default costume, Little Red Riding Hood holding the basket full of candy. It's cute but been there, done that. We were scrounging around for something for Jerry to wear when I had one of those light bulb moments. He could put on Glinda's outfit and I'd sew the back shut for him. That is exactly what I did, so I only have myself to blame.
It was about then that the fun started. When he got outside, our neighbor saw him and brought over a blond wig and a sash like Miss America wears. His costume was the hit of the evening. Everyone commented on it, several moms got their picture taken with him and he was having a blast getting all the attention. Red riding hood, the pimp and his girl could have been invisible for all that anybody noticed us.
Some of the littlest kids wouldn't even come up our sidewalk to get candy because the sight of Glinda/Jerry so disturbed them. One little girl said, "Mommy, why is that man dressed like a lady?" She replied, "It's Halloween, honey. You can be whoever you want to be on Halloween!"
I'm all for moments in the sun and we certainly got our money's worth out of that outfit, wringing out every ounce of fun we could. Everyone enjoyed that Halloween and the pictures I took of Jerry as Glinda have surfaced all over facebook and even popped up as part of a presentation his boss did at work. When people see them, they laugh.
The problem is this: I have lost ten pounds this year and now I can actually wear THE DRESS myself and zip it up. This is a big deal for me so I feel I should get to be Glinda. Jerry claims squatter's rights though and his trump card is that nobody in our new town has seen him in this costume yet.
One of us has to be the big man here and, in all honesty, he does look charming dressed in pink tulle. Who could resist him? He can wear the outfit one more time and I'll try not to begrudge him his fun. He doesn't know it yet but I have even borrowed a wig, found a pink tiara (with marabou) and gotten a glittery silver wand for him to carry. He will be the hit of the party, that's a given.
As for me, I toyed with going as a munchkin - I've got that shortness thing going for me - but then I found myself the coolest witches' hat ever, made with velvet and feathers so I'm going as Elphaba (better known as the Wicked Witch of the West.) As an added bonus, I have a wand that shoots blue lasers around the room so I will be able to cast real spells. As a final plus, everyone knows that dressing totally in black is slimming.
Happy Halloween.
P.S. I wore my new old shoes to a party last night and nobody -- not one single person -- pointed and laughed. Several people who knew the story were surprised at how nice the shoes looked. Nobody was more stunned than I was when I realized that using porch stain on my shoes actually worked!
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