Helluva Halloween

As I understand it, Halloween is the official holiday of “my people.” But, until last night I never truly celebrated the evening to its fullest potential. Having always lived as a “stranger in a strange land” (around straight people), I’ve always celebrated as they do. They dress up in old ragged clothes, call themselves hobos and haul their kids around in SUV’s into the suburbs to subsidize dentists salaries for years to come. Oh, my! How the breeders are missing the true spirit of the evening.

Only we who live 365 days a year in polite personal repression in deference to our straight families and friends truly understand how important it is to really “let your hair down” for just one night each year. When living with the daily requirement to avoid the slightest eye contact with someone you might find attractive, or editing your dinner conversation in fear that a young couple might be offended by what their children overhear at the next table, it becomes absolutely necessary to embrace the outrageous and the absurd. That’s exactly what Halloween is to the gays. It’s the one night a year that “anything goes.” You don’t even have to travel to New Orleans for Mardi Gras.

Being that this is my first big city Halloween event I was both excited and frightened about how to dress for the evening. It was so overwhelming that I almost decided to pull on some unremarkable street clothes and just watch the show from the sidelines. But, last week I wrote on here how I’m often disengaged from the action. I proclaimed my intent to “prance like a pony” occasionally. Well, baby, this was my moment and I was not about to let it pass. I just couldn’t do that and look myself in the eye the next morning.

So, I had to come up with a costume. It was an intimidating undertaking. I was dressing to be in the company of several distinguished “fancy boys.” Costuming is a serious business with these guys. I knew that a half-assed effort would not be appreciated. A shabby hobo from the attic storage boxes is not acceptable. I knew going into the evening that I was going to see a “fabulous” Tammy Wynette, a grisly but audacious Doris Day, and a twinkilicious twenty-something showing more skin than the Olympic men’s swim team. I toyed with the idea of leather. Its masculine, its aggressive, it’s a full-throttle, in-your-face statement. But, its also damned expensive and frightens small children and church ladies. I knew that dressing in drag was not for me. I may be gay but I don’t want anyone confused about the fact that I’m a guy. I enjoy being a man and I appreciate men that enjoy me being a man. I also wanted a costume that showed the inner me, my personality and style.

It came to me. Ever since I moved here I’ve been goggle-eyed by the larger population of beautiful men. I’ve made no secret about my admiration of several of them around some of my new friends. I would be a “horny little devil.” I wore my all black Perry Ellis ensemble, and added a black cape and plastic horns. I painted my face a ghastly and sinister white and black. Then to demonstrate my ability to accessorize I added a chain necklace with a bulky red cross, red socks, and of course a black and red marabou feather boa. No well-dressed gay little devil would be caught dead without his feather boa, right?

It was a great night. We howled at each other as we made our grand entries into the bar. Cameras clicked all night long and I collected so many pictures that can be used “with permission only”. My escort for most of the evening was an imposing and magnificent (but benevolent) wicked witch complete with stockings and heels. Elphaba, look out, someone’s after your job. I used my Halloween personae to shamelessly flirt with anyone and everyone that caught my eye regardless of age or attire. It was a helluva Halloween! Then at midnight, like Cinderella, I dashed away from the ball unceremoniously and unescorted. After arriving home it took a good hour to soak the cosmetics off my face and hair. I washed away every bit of last night except some great memories and pictures (and a fabulous feather boa).