The Jason Debacle of 1999

Halloween! Ghosts and ghouls. Parties. Costumes!

I'm not good with costumes.

When I was a kid, I dressed up as a weeping willow one year, complete with long, long strings of knotted green crepe paper to represent flowing branches. But instead, people thought I was the Creature from the Black  Lagoon. You would think the bird's nest on top of my head would have been a clue. Philistines.

The next time I wore a Halloween costume was at a gay sober dance in 1999. It was my first dance as a single woman, my first dance as an out lesbian, and, in fact, my first dance. What would I wear? What message did I want to send?

Well, I went as the Crash Test Dummy. It looked exactly like this, only without the steering wheel:

As my friend James said afterwards, "Could you have chosen anything less sexual?" Considering I looked like Jason in a hazmat suit, I'd have to answer in the negative.

I haven't worn a costume since.

So anyway, there's this dance on Halloween. Dances are hard for me, even harder than other social events, but I'm determined to go. Life begins where your comfort zone ends, right?.

There's just one problem: The invitation says to come in disguise. Oy.

Not wanting to repeat the Jason Debacle of 1999, I got on eBay and started looking for a costume. What should I wear? What kind of message do I want to send?

At least I have a starting point this time: It has to be sexier than a crash test dummy. That eliminates Mrs. Potato Head. And Elmo. And probably a weeping willow.

I can't wear anything short, or clingy, or braless, because I'm pretty sure I can't lose 60 pounds by October 31. That disposes of 99.2% of the costumes remaining.

And nothing that just plain annoys me. That eliminates Disney characters and anything with antennae.

So what's left? Well, let's see. I'm down to Pirate Wench, Renaissance Wench, or Oktoberfest Wench.

Except... High heels are out of the question, because I'm a complete klutz. Is it possible for wenchiness to co-exist with flats?  

It's starting to look like I'm going as Librarian with Cleavage and Sensible Shoes.

In a disguise. Somehow.