After almost a year, finally got the photos of Jim, Amanda and Chrissy’s Haloween party off the phone and onto a PC. Resolution varied wildly due to my brothers drunken tinkering with his camera. Most are 9k but some were 160k or so, which I’ve reduced to show off here. Notably, these were the ones with my Brother in. This says much.
The Concubine had the majority of our costume bits and pieces, but she ended up not being able to get over from Bristol. Which left Gril, Arch-Sibling Michael and myself half an hour or so to improvise costumes around the detrius of our flat. Considering what we had, we didn’t do that badly.
Firstly, Michael, Gillen V2.0 and general possessor of The Good Genes. Michael was either a Werewolf attack victim or a zombie. We hadn’t really decided. This involved smearing him with the paints I secured for the infamous Reviewing Invisible War In Mime and tearing huge holes in old black T-shirts. Then, cleverly, we ripped apart a freebie red games T-shirt and attached it beneath the rents to give the impression of torn flesh.
Gril went as some manner of Skeleton gentleman thing. We may have been riffing of Lucasart classic Grim Fandango. The mask was mine, and I entirely forget why I owned it. The black eyes were torn out for increased visibility. Gril brought his own suit. There may have been some more details which I forget.
Finally, I had an advantage. I knew I was going as some manner of Pirate thing, but only had one artefact – a black skater hat with a skull on Jane bought to mock me. Still – a foundation. I created an eyepatch-style thing with the other remains of the red cloth, used the last dregs to create a dashing sash and pull on a particularly horrific fey blue shirt of Gril’s. And covered myself with a ghostly palour. And dug around some detrius and located a tight-chain neck-choker from my punky-gothy eyeliner days.
Voila! Instant Ultra-Fey Ghost Pirate.
And, yeah, good party. In fact, so good that the vast majority of its details can’t be elaborated properly here. The following is Michael and Myself on the way home at around 4 in the morning, exactly ten seconds before he ran the length of the Sainsbury’s Garage and threw himself onto the enormous pile of logs outside the shop, to the bemusement of the late-night staff.
And, yeah, he really is that tall.