I am somewhat concerned by the fact that I was more comfortable in my Halloween costume last night than I am dressed like a normal person. Unlike many of the Halloween revellers we saw out there, my costume was most certainly not cute. I painted my face like a skull, put on a dishevelled back wig, painted fake blood across my throat and coming out of my mouth and then fashioned a Goth style dress out of a skirt, top and bra. My intentions seem to have served me well since I managed to frighten not only a number of small children but quite a few adults as well. Is it possible I got too much into character?
I think our journey from Earlsfield to Limehouse provided entertainment for quite a few travellers. I suppose part of it was down to the nature of our outfits. I was walking around with my bra out, Kelly was a Playboy Bunny suicide, Barb was a very saucy witch and Candice was a slinky kitty. Boys stared. A lot. One even came and draped himself on me telling me I had the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen (how suave). Unfortunately his girlfriend didn’t seem to think so. As they exited Canary Wharf we watched the beginning of the carnage and giggled… a little. Here we are all regaled.
The occasion was not only Halloween but also Fi’s birthday. I have to say that I ADORE her house. It has this mad funkiness about it that makes me feel very much at home. Fi and flatmates had gone to town with the décor and everything was draped in cobwebs, bloody handprints, spiders and pumpkins. The whole house was packed with people in mad outfits including Hilton – the Stormtrooper, Don – The Mummy and Tino who was a Knight To Remember complete with giant penis… don’t ask.
The night descended into drunken randomness and I bounced around with a cup of vodka cranberry talking to anyone and everyone before realising that it was 4 am and even zombies get sleepy. Happy birthday, Fi. It was the best Halloween ever!