Thin pink bloomers on an in-drag housewife, with a beer poured on them? That tale from a Halloween past, also, is only the start of what was dead-eye seen at weekend costume parties

Back in college I had what I thought was the ultimate Halloween costume, as a housewife who gets up in the morning, complete with facial cream that made me break out a bit.
I guess I was wrong, as for the weekend costume parties, I reprised that role for the first time in decades by getting ready in minutes — and this time I felt it showed — and adding a dog leash as a necklace and a blouse for a skirt. I did this by pulling it up tight, even though it was difficult getting it past my formitable hips, but this did leave a big flap that dragged down to my knees, making me inadvertently and inaccurately look well endowed. The combination attracted attention everywhere I went.
But back to that first time I went in drag. I had curlers in my hair and an ugly bonnet. I had pink bloomers and a girdle. I had a camisole top and garish pink robe. I put on cross country ski boots to change up the look, complimented by rolled up nylons. The camisole top would not behave, as one of the straps was always flopping down and just could not be fixed. So in stepped my roommate Tony with the suggestion that I simply go as a tease.
Tony also came into play with the shtick I used at a party that night. We were also accompanied by friend Denise, who went as a Playboy bunny, and those two often went off by themselves (go figure!) I took advantage of that opportunity to approach some beautiful women with a well rehearsed mantra complete with squeaky voice that went loosely like this: I am wondering if you could help me. See my husband over there with that hottie? He never pays that kind of attention to me and we haven’t had sex for months. Can you give me any suggestions? (I did get a garter from a French maid, but that didn’t capture Tony’s interest either).
One more Tony reference and then I am done with this long-winded story. He dared me to approach yet another female friend and jokingly ask if she would consider a lesbian encounter with me. But she really got the last laugh when pouring her beer on a strategically placed part of my already thin bloomers, and there wasn’t much left to the imagination.
But last weekend, the yuks started the moment I strolled into the first stop, Seasons Tavern. I had no sooner walked in the door and owner Brad took one look, covered his eyes while leaving a gap between his fingers, and wailed “No! No!” People saw me coming up the way and had looked for only a second or two and already there were broad smiles. They regularly asked me just what the heck my costume was. I told them I started as going for the whole housewife thing, but strayed away. Many said they thought I was actually a doctor, or even a nurse. I could see that, I think.
What I couldn’t see as readily was later when the bouncer at Dick’s asked me to cover up a little more with my unbuttoned robe. I complied as best I could by wrapping my chain around it and we both had a good laugh.
But back to this weekend, as yes, there are other costumes to describe, not just mine. Friday and Sunday kind of tanked, but there were even more people than usual out in the middle, on Saturday night, both in costume and out, and legions of them were out-of-town, new faces. To wit:
— The costume party winner at Dick’s was none other then a Kenny Rogers lookalike, and I mean lookalike, right down to the perfectly coiffed whiteish hair and top-to-bottom dress of a country super-star.
— The third place winner was, as he was dubbed by someone in the crowd Gay Deadpool, although he had to trade in a sword for a couple of flyswatters for his upper back, because of house safety rules.
— Sexy was definitely in for one of the bartenders, who sported a thong maillot that left little to the imagination for both her butt and breasts.
— Of course there was at least one evil clown, who showed up early and attracted attention at one of the bars, then made a name for himself also by pushing his face against the window at Rio Loco and teasing the people at the inside table.
— The ex-military man (a sniper, great past job for Halloween) who can now for the first time have a mohawk with colorful pink hair, for the days before Halloween only, changed it up for bright orange hair on the last of those days.
— At Pudge’s was a lifesize mummy decoration who was wrapped so tight with what looked like thick toilet paper that there was nary an inch of skin to be seen, or even eyes.
— My bet for best inadvertent Halloween-themed garb is the TV ad pitch person who has hair that makes him look like a Chia pet. And we thought prior to his reformation day, The Donald was bad.
— I also saw a T-shirt asking with a checklist what was your Halloween costume of choice. The last option was a nudist. Uhm, wasn’t the whole idea of nudity that you don’t have a costume?

Lastly, at Village Liquor, there was an again lifesize Jack in the beanstalk display hawking booze that featured a headpiece with a theme of, you guessed it, Halloween.

And if you really want to get spooked during trick-or-treating, come by the haunted house at Cherry Circle, just off of Fourth Street in North Hudson. Just don’t look up on the roof, unless you are very brave.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

Thou protesteth too much?!? That be me. Computer geek? Can’t see. Omniscient? I am not He. If you are reading my attempted Facebook teaser, it was supposed to be All About The Football, or even futbal, in freeze frame or infinite loop, but that Alleged Giant, of social media, clipped off the wording top and bottom, front and back, fore and aft, day and night, (that last part is important), then sent the post anyway, a yammering of names! I tried to fix it, and must own up to my own part, but I was just shown more ads. I...
But seriously, folks … There is a moral to the story, if you read to the very end. Last weekend, we combined a full moon, along with the day and evening entering into it, with a harvest moon and its day-into-night when the applicable seasons change. If you go out on the town, the Hudson downtown, you go less than a block before you see it’s different, and skewed in a crazed direction, even more on Friday — and others reinforced this — the night before the full moon, when the seconds ticked away into Saturday. Bar workers will tell you...
The autumn season, just started officially, is now far enough along to bring the pro football season to an (extra) point where a team as of this weekend could have, conceivably, faced all the other rivals in their division. Depending on which one we’re in. If the division consists of five (teams), they’re still possibly alive, although Black and Blue. So I continue my nightlife writing anew, even though my favorite NFL team was not showing up as faithfully. So, maybe for now just amble over to the apple orchard and pick some (forbidden) fruit … Or: In our case, up in...
Listen to your rock stars, not your politicians. And not those at wholesome or not, rally-around-the-flag hometown fests. Or seen on the city streets and federal freeways when Old Glory is shown in all its glory everywhere. And I walk and talk, and bawk and squawk, gingerly among them all. This as 9/11 is still all the rage, and at times being used not for glorifying the many fallen, but for gain, mostly political, whether in online forums or the hallowed halls of government, or by those who will take the opp to make a racial or culturally based point....
Being a Wisconsinite, west side, I’ve seen a few people I know pop up at the Minnesota State Fair, now and then and again, but not like this time, with a pop-up-stand artist at a talk show.I was with a friend and we sat down in the bleachers, and a guest was brought up that turned out to be — someone who I knew from back in Hudson, an artist with a co-op gallery she owned set up in the middle of the downtown a few years ago. When I had moved to that part of town, I crossed paths...
They’ve added a coffee bar, so you can have a foray of seating for four on stools in front of it, a wine bar and a petite table for two directly in front of the southwest window, and plenty of inexpensive drinks, but other than that The Urban Table as it is known is much like the former Urban Olive and Vine before it. The man who is the brains behind Hudco To Go has brought those $3 premium drinks and more to the restaurant that is kitty-corner to the, again, southwest when you take Locust Street and venture onto...
Scroll to Top