From Halloween 2014…
Oh sorry did we scare you? In case you’re a wild thing who threw caution and calendars to the wind at least one month ago, you may not be aware that today is Halloween.
If you did already know that today is the 31st of October because you’re one of those people who’s really good at knowing what day it is, then congratulations my fair lady, you’re ahead of the game.
Now, who knows if this is true because the History Channel usually lies, but Halloween actually started with the ancient Celtic festival known as Samhain. Samhain — which fell on November 1 — is pronounced sow-when, but sort of sounds like someone is saying “salad” with a stuffy nose and a heavy tongue. Anyspooks, it was common belief that on the night before Samhain, ghosts came out from wherever and would walk the streets saying “boo” and shit. People would wear masks to trick the ghosts into believing they were ghosts too, and those who stayed inside left food and wine on their stoops to keep the bridge and tunnel spirits at bay.
Later, the Christian church turned this into All Saints Day, aka All Hallows Eve, and in an abbreviation that makes zero sense whatsoever the three words became Halloween.
Why are we telling you this? Because Leandra and I have taken it upon our brave selves to try the Halloween Diet — a combination of the Sugar Diet and the Tequila Diet while having nothing to do with the No Coffee Diet or the Bastille Day Diet. You know the deal, we’ll be updating throughout the day, so keep checking back in between every e-mail you don’t want to deal with.
Rules of the diet:
1) Be in costume
2) Eat candy
3) Drink wine
Here we go.
I am dressed a damn ghost and it’s hard to breathe. Specifically, I am a basic ghost, because I think the word, at least tacked onto its current definition, will die soon — mostly because it’s overused, mostly because I overused it.
What I’m wearing: leggings, Uggs, a “You Can’t Sit With Us” tank and a giant bed sheet that I risked my life to have Leandra cut two holes into while the sheet was on my face.
Good decisions don’t happen in the morning for me.
Accessories: a Starbucks cup, last night’s slowly depleting buzz.
Hey! What’s up, party people? I am dressed as “If I even have to explain my costume, something is obviously wrong with you. Don’t you watch the news!?” girl. I’m wearing a full piece American-flag printed bathing suit which I just wanted to buy because I love the Americas but specifically the Northern one, and leopard print leggings paired with leopard print boots. If anyone continues to pester and won’t buy this idea then let it be known, I am a taxonomic anomaly — an American leopard. A patriotic cat. Al Bundy’s wife.
Here I am:
Tonight I am going as Bae Watch (protecting pools from water-poopers since ’88!), which means that my fake tanner to clothes ratio has to be 10 to 1. In what is starting to look like a very #thirsty (you guys taught me that word) attempt to link to my old posts — glory days! — I busted out the San Tropez last night.
Fake tanner smells like bread to me. Yeasty, sweet bread that is usually fairly unassuming if you put on a normal amount but Pam Anderson was never one for moderation so I’m not either, but may I just remind you that since my office costume is a ghost, I’m currently sitting here with a sheet over my face and no nose holes which is essentially akin to giving myself a fake-tan-fume dutch oven and I want to choke. It is also also hard to see.
Amelia brought in Kit Kats and Reece’s Pieces and Snickers and shit for the tricker treaters in our office building (read: she and myself, though Krista and Kayla have taken to the candy like good sports, too) but I prefer locally grown artisanal shit. So, I just ate three dark chocolate covered almonds. The almonds were grown in Brooklyn and the chocolate is actually my poop, which is organic.
I’m just kidding.
I was wondering if you’re actually reading.
But the jury is still out.
So far, in addition to my Steel-Cut Oatmeal, I have consumed 4 kernels of candy corn, three pieces of poop covered almonds, one fun-size snickers bar and one piece of licorice today. I think I’m maxed out on sugar for at least the next 16 minutes but can attest that Amelia, who is being a bougie, artisanal ass bag with her Balthazar salmon salad is not. I mean, what kind of ghost eats salmon anyway, you know?
By the way! A hot dog dressed up as a pug came into the office earlier. Let me defer to Amelia.
Let me tell you something about being a ghost. It is super fucking difficult. For one thing, everyone is scared of me. It’s like guys, hello, I’m not a real ghost. It’s also hot, probably because I’m wearing Uggs but also because I’m sitting inside of a bed sheet. Eating was really hard if not completely impossible, so I wrapped my sheet around my shoulders like I just ran a marathon which is funny, because I don’t have a shirt on underneath. This was cool when the delivery guy arrived and I tipped him while forgetting that I didn’t have a shirt on. The great thing about being a ghost is that I’m wearing a napkin! I got to eat my food and spill everything and didn’t have to wipe anything off.
Here’s the dog that Leandra is scared of.
Just got an angry text message from my dad who saw this post. He’s mad I ruined bed linens and thinks my costume is “a waste of a perfectly good sheet.” He doesn’t know anything; until today, this sheet was a waste of a perfectly good ghost.
Not one — NOT ONE — person has asked what I am dressed as which really makes me wonder if I look more like this than I think I do on the reg.
So far, we have gone trick-or-treating at:
Jack’s Wife Freda
Our neighbor’s office
Full disclosure: none of that is true. We haven’t actually gone so much as we have mapped out our going. Stay tuned for more. Oh! But also! And here’s a fun one: I have a fitting at Dior on 57th street at 4PM. I will be curious to see if they allow me into the store wearing what I am currently dressed in. Furthermore, I wonder what my subway ride over will be like. If they do in fact let me in, I will question their veracity as a leading fashion house in the upper echelons of the industry but also commend their open-mindedness. If they don’t, I will cry.
I have cavities, but at least I am sober.
Musical lyrics that finally make sense now that I’m a ghost: I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier.
Now that it’s officially happy hour and the sun is starting to black out already, our Halloween Diet appears to have been adopted by the entire city. People are bobbing for Apple phones, bartering for full-sized Snickers, confusing cops for strippers, and for some reason there seems to be a trend among grown men dressed up as penguins. As we officially conclude the whole writing-portion of this diet, you’re probably just starting on your journey, so like my mom always says: have fun, be safe, and enjoy the one night you can take candy from strangers.
Collage by Krista Lewis who is dressed up as herself today. Halloween facts via History.com.
Still figuring out your closet? We feel you.