![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjur_z7EewhTbxYisqUQ5aPKj6vd5VYmwPBLVfJoK-A32fnB8cqPwJwTu19cginhUKbuVWXDwyEVxDpD3qGcOwxVimwdWSjYEDN0aaPSdtsv-37l9aTmw9UlF8hGCuzzLTl2A_QHod3gh8/s400/wonder_woman.jpg)
it is 11am and I am watching a woman get out of her car. her impressively smooth behind is hanging out of an impressively small wonder woman costume. it is the bright white of late morning light and the pale of her usually hidden skin is luminous. as I am drinking my coffee, I am wanting to understand this urge. is she hoping that we have all forgotten it is halloween and for a moment believe to be witnessing a real live wonder woman order a latte? has she waited 10 long months and 31 endless days for this opportunity to show the world exactly how firm her ass cheeks are? was it this very costume that motivated her countless steps on the stair climber. did she do squats every night while brushing her teeth, imagining this very moment where she is standing at the front of a very long line? maybe, she is a real life heroine thinking “finally!” and using this socially sanctioned day to dress the part? or, perhaps she is nothing like wonder woman and is simply relishing in the 24 hours where she can wear star bedecked briefs and red go-go boots and not be mistaken for a special occasions stripper? maybe her grandmother made her this costume and then on her death bed asked this woman to realize her grandmother's own unrealized dream of dressing like a sexy superhero on halloween. maybe this woman just wants to have super powers, real or imagined, for one day. maybe she wants to feel wonderful, even if tomorrow, she goes back to being herself.
originally, the pagans dressed up as ghouls and gobblins in an attempt to protect themselves from evil spirits on all hallow's even. now people just dress up to pretend they're not themselves. even candy bars pretend to be smaller and m&m’s get to dress in different shades of candy coating.
I think this year I am going to dress up as a dressed down version of myself. sweat pants, an old t-shirt. no make-up, messy hair. I am going to answer the door with my big bowl of candy and I am going to see witches and mummy's and french maids and clowns. skeletons will come out of closets to solicit for sweets. pirates will leave their ships in search of sugary treasures. and if anyone asks, "who are you supposed to be?" I will reply, "I'm trying my best, as scary as it sometimes is, to be a really good version of myself."
No comments:
Post a Comment