:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

:: Friday, October 28, 2005 ::

:: Playing Dress-up ::

Halloween is almost here and I've been inundated with "what are you dressing up as?" I haven't decided what, if at all. Cool thing about South Beach is the entertaining levels of freakishness that costumes can reach. I've seen garishly color dresses and fishnet stockings, catsuits tight enough to cause whiplash, enormous cone bras, and some lurid clown-whore makeup (as well as a few clown whores. I honestly didn't know whether to be horny or scared for my life).

And that's just the guys.

As for the women, I find it amusing how most of them go into these descriptions about the elaborate costumes they're planning. A girl I met at Starbucks, sitting on a couch next to my table just now told me how she's planning on going as the "Biblical Eve" (her words... she looks familiar for some reason). It amuses me because all these girls are doing is dressing up as various permutations of one thing: slut.

Think about it. Halloween is the one time of the year you can be someone you're not. You also get to wear things that would be completely inappropriate any other time because it's either ridiculously outlandish, or quite possibly illegal in some states. Just so we're clear, I don't have a problem with any of this.

Sure a girl might say she's dressing up as a cop, devil, mummy, or the St. Pauli girl but all she's doing is dressing up as slut; it just happens to be a slut with a theme. (For that matter it's the same with restaurants. Sure they may have a theme but the menu isn't that different from a Johnny Rockets. Also, prices are higher. I don't even know why I typed that last sentence.) Some girl once tried to dispute this but conceded my point when I pointed out that most people from the Wild West usually wore something more substantial than her denim thong underneath their chaps.

And the timing of me typing this post couldn't have been any more perfect since Starbucks girl was just telling me how her Eve getup consisted of a few leaves and a fake snake. My first response was "wait, leaves... plural?" To which she responded with a hearty laugh. (Because, at least how I was picturing it, you really need just one leaf.) Anyway, she looked familiar to me because I met her a week ago at an art exhibit. I must have left an impression. Enough that she seemed pretty eager to give me her number.

Must be the hair. Or not.

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:48 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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