I know I’m not the first person to point out the overwhelming slut factor that eeks its way into ladies’ Halloween costumes.  But I just can’t take it.  I’m no prude and I also (kind of) believe in the mantra, “If you’ve got it flaunt it”. But…there has got to be a line.  A fine line, but a line nonetheless.

In college, I did my fair share of whoring up a Halloween costume. I’m not even gonna pretend I didn’t. Hell, there are pictures of me a lot younger than that in costumes that towed that line.

This. Happened.

This. Happened.

I’m no feminist. I believe in people having a little fun when it comes to dressing up for themed events, Halloween, etc.  And if you know me at all, I have a highly inappropriate sense of humor. Like, off the wall. But WHY does almost every female costume look like you just walked off a set from the Cheetah stage.  Seriously, there are sexy elephants, sexy cops, even a trampy Ebola nurse made the rounds this year and was brought to my attention via Facebook from a friend.

Because nothing screams sexy like an elephant

Because nothing screams sexy like an elephant

so hot

Too soon?

I mean I know there are tons of double standards when it comes to men and women, but you don’t see rows upon rows of banana hammocks for men to select a Halloween costume from! Nor should there be. That kind of shit should stay at Fantasy Fest. Please, for the love of god and all that’s holy, do not let that EVER become a trend. It’s not a good look. For anyone. Ever.

Truth be told, I don’t dress up for Halloween anymore.  I actually hate Halloween. I hate it less since I have a child who loves it. but I’ve always kind of seen it as a veiled excuse for people to act like assholes.  Last year, my daughter begged me to dress up so I bought a wonder woman shirt to match her costume, threw on the shin guards that came with her costume which she opted not to wear – and viola. Costume complete.

This year however, since I’m back in an office environment, there is a little bit of pressure to do something a bit more substantial. Nobody wants to be the asshole who didn’t dress up. Even if it means throwing on some cat ears and drawing some quick whiskers on with black eyeliner.

The easiest way to rally for an adult dress up is to pair up, right? Power in numbers.  So this Halloween I’m enlisting the buddy system and we are doing a pairs costume.  We settled on 2 Broke Girls, found costumes online that didn’t look like we were posing as hookers in a prostitution sting, and felt accomplished. Clearly I’d be Max (brunette on the left) because if you’ve seen the show, we’re both dripping in sarcasm.

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But then the costumes came, and they were hella short. Like, what the eff are we gonna do, short.  We need back up.  Spanx do no good because they just suck the life out of you underneath your clothes. We needed something that would cover our late 30s flaws.

So, we took a field trip to the only dance supply (real dance supply store, that’s not code for The Hustler Store).  We had a 15 minute dialogue with the salesman behind the counter. My part went something like this:

Me: “Hi. Do you guys sells those Hooter’s tights?”

DanceMan: “No, we just sell skin-tone colored ones but they’re pretty thick.” (hands me package to look at size chart).

Me: “Ok, I’ll take the small”

DanceMan: “You might want to consider the large” (sees my forehead vein pulsating and bitch face is starting). Stammering he tries to redeem himself, “It’s just that tights run really small.”

Ya think!

 

Toddler tights

Toddler tights

DanceMan: “Can I ask your height?”

Me: “Yes, I’m pushing 5’1”

DanceMan: “May I ask your weight?”

Me: “No you may not.”

I took the small. You can see what they looked like when I opened them in the above picture.  How the eff am I fitting my ass into those. How? My mother calls me Ray-lo for a reason.

In my head I’m thinking, Sonofabitch! I’m gonna have to go back, eat crow and tell DanceMan I need a large. FML

tights2

But, I tried them on and they fit. It was almost as shocking as the realization that a child CAN in fact come out of that part of your body.

I digress.

Ok, so they fit but it just wasn’t gonna do the trick.  I had to have the Hooters Hose. There was no other logical solution.

I tried crowdsourcing again since it was a major success with the lizardcide I recently committed.  But no real leads.

 

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So I called Hooters and when the Hooterette answered I prefaced the conversation saying that I had a weird question (I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess my question doesn’t even register on the weird-meter at this establishment). Luckily (and strangely), they actually sell them AT the restaurant! I guess there’s a market for people who frequently needs these hose to look like hoes! I walked in and it’s a weird feeling when you are face to face with someone, both dressed in work attire, but at completely opposite ends of the spectrum.  And I could NOT stop staring at the boobs of the girl who was helping me.  They were giant… and incredible. She was like a tiny little popsicle stick with two huge globes glued up top. I don’t understand how she could even walk…or stand! And all I could think was – good for her.  Enjoy em now sister.  Stare at them lovingly in the mirror everyday.

I scored the Hooter’s tights and stuffed them in my purse quickly and almost a little nervous. It may as well have been a bag of weed.  Even the packaging is shady.

Who's Tamara and does she know Hooter's gals don her "calendar girl" hose?  Was she at one time a Hooter's girl? I have so many questions.

Who’s Tamara and does she know Hooter’s gals don her “calendar girl” hose? Was she at one time a Hooter’s girl? I have so many questions.

T’was the eve before Halloween and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for me when I tried on not one, but both pairs of procured tights and realized that even with them, the dress was so short I could potentially get fired.  The toddler tights were not so great. The Hooters hose were even worse, plus made me look like I got my coloring from an oompa loompa from my thighs down.  Seriously, the shade those suckers come in does not exist in the human species. I’m not a mini skirt alarmist, but this was bad.  What the eff was I going to do? Can’t bail – it’s a pairs costume.  Don’t have any other options. So, I made the executive decision that I had to wear leggings.  No way around it.

Yep. On Halloween I will rock my costume like the chicks from SisterWives who wear leggings and long sleeves under tshirts and tank tops to maintain their modesty.

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And then I had another sobering thought – I have to drive my daughter to school in a painfully short waitress costume. And I’m solo – without my other costumed half.  What if they don’t watch 2 Broke girls? They’ll totally think I’m an actual waitress who shortened her uniform to score tips from Boca’s finest working the breakfast shift at Flashback Diner. Shit.

Thankfully I was able to swing going in street clothes (with a full face of makeup including cat eyes and red lips) and then rushed back to get dressed in a mess of polyester.  But…we pulled it off!

2 broke girls

Next year, I may just have to go with cat ears and eyeliner whiskers. This was exhausting!

Happy Halloween y’all!