Ding Dong? Nobody’s Home. Go Away.

While JSlow loves Halloween, I despise it.

To me, there is nothing more horrific than hoards of marauding drunk dudes (it’s always the “dudes”) and chicks who use Halloween as an excuse to dress in various versions of the slut (hooker witch, hooker vampire, hooker cat, hooker hooker.)

Perhaps I’m just bitter.

Growing up, my mom used to make my brother and me handmade costumes, as she was an artist and this was her way of expressing herself (as well as saving money.)  But of course, kids being kids, we both preferred the crappy costumes you buy at the drug store, but seldom got to wear.

See?  I don’t look very happy, do I?

On top of that, mom made us wear coats over our costumes when we went out trick-or-treating at night.

This absolutely sucked.   What was the point of wearing a costume that no one could see?  If I’d had half a brain, I would have based my costumes on the coat, and go as Cruella De Vil, or someone like that:

Which is why, as of this Halloween forward, I have vowed to treat myself to a fabulous coat in honor of all the coats that helped ruin Halloween for me.

Junya Watanabe fur

Happy Halloween.   At last.