Costume Crisis

So I read on a few blogs that anyone dressed as Sarah Palin this Halloween would be considered an uncreative, behind-the-times idiot who would be widely mocked. I suppose the concept isn't as original as I first thought - back when she was named the VP nominee. But I've got the bangs, the haircolor, the suit, and glasses a-plenty. I just needed a baby doll and an American flag pin and I'd be good to go.

Once Bradley shied away from morphing into McCain, however, my idea ran into a giant roadblock. Since he was also opposed to being Juno and her boyfriend (Michael Cera) from the movie of the same named, I was stumped. Wouldn't he have looked adorable in running shorts? (This is where he demurred...) I love the wrapped-up skirt over pants attire, along with the baby bump. Think of all the cocktails and hors d'oeuvres I could sneak in there with no one ever becoming the wiser.


Alas, here we are. Less than an hour away from our first Halloween party of the year and I'm (relatively) costume-less. Bradley bought me a "Rehab" (a.k.a. Amy Winehouse) wig and some size small fake angel tattoo arm sleeves. Apparently my (relatively) small arms are actually size medium. Much to my disappointment - and discomfort.



So I'm currently sporting a sheerish black turtleneck over tight dark jeans with bright blue heels, a giant Amy wig and a pink ribbon belt with chiffon rosette. Under the sheerish turtleneck, rather than my typical black cami, I am sporting a Halloween orange underthing. (That'd be from you, K.Dub.) You can't even see a hint of it, so my one attempt at skankiness is for naught.

Don't worry, that last J. Crew accessory will come off. But, seriously, how different could my wardrobe and Amy Winehouse's be?

Let's list the ensembles I've tried to convince myself look Winehouse-esque this evening:

-black H&M halter dress from my summer in Paris (too cocktail-appropriate and too cold)
-white t-shirt with black bra (also too cold)
-black three-quarter sleeved jacket (too prim)
-previously mentioned pink ribbon belt (please)

I mean, I'm out of options. B was sweet to get me a wig so I'd have any choices at all. But who were we kidding that in my closet I'd have anything but a wife-beater to pull this off....

Must go apply twenty pounds of eyeliner. Love to you all! And if you think of something for B to be besides my coked-out boyfriend and/or tatted up security guard, do yell. We're off to the store to grab man-sized tat sleeves for him.

If only Blue were a pit bull we could bring him along in our entourage....

xo,
A.
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