“I Made Do With a Red Ribbon and Plastic Snow White Kabuki Mask from Hell”

“I Made Do With a Red Ribbon and Plastic Snow White Kabuki Mask from Hell”

Prude. Webster’s definition, “A woman who shows or affects extreme modesty.” I’m not a prude; but leafing through Halloween catalogs with my 8 year-old daughter, I wondered.

Every year, I vow not to spend money on costumes. Long ago, Mom made ours. (Hmm, this content is wading into Kathy Lehman Rule* territory.) Terribly creative, Mom whipped something up on her sewing machine. A cat, Native American Indian, Southern belle with hoop skirt. I was all the Princesses. Well, any pre-Ariel age princess. (Ugh. Throw the flag. Flagrant Kathy Lehman violation.)

If honest, I was always disappointed. Nothing Mom created, nothing that came in a box looked as I envisioned. The only way to garner a bone fide Snow White costume was to apply for a SAG card, drive 30 miles to Disney and win an open casting call among hundreds of fair, raven-haired maidens.

I was eight. No wheels or red heels. I made do with a red ribbon in my hair, yellow shirt and plastic Snow White Kabuki mask from hell. No to die for puffy light blue sleeves with scarlet-pleated cutouts. I still suffer from residual Snow White sleeves issues.

The situation gets more complicated. Not only do I feel guilt over feeding the false impression to my children that all Halloween costumes are perfect, therefore life is perfect – there are The Rules. My rules regarding Halloween. No gore, no evil (see last week’s column) and no mature-looking costumes for any daughter young enough to guess bordello and brothel are words for mushrooms and some manner of French soup.

Looking through her options, my daughter fixated the on the Graveyard Fairy. This is the Internet description. “Fairy Licious Graveyard Fairy Pre-teen Costume.”

“Licious” and Pre-teen in the same breath? I don’t exactly know what “licious” means, but it’s light years from Snow White in a blue Campfire Girls shirt.

 My daughter sighed, “She’s so pretty.”

Pretty is Snow White. Graveyard Fairy is jagged hemline, lace-up bodice, stripped glovettes and wings. Accompanying back boots, fishnet tights, tiara with veil and choker.  I have worn fishnets once (maybe twice). Tiara with veil — did that in white on my wedding day. A bodice? Isn’t that to hold things in and squish fleshy womanly parts up? My 8 year-old has no flesh to squeeze or push. Who designs and manufactures this garb? Obviously, no one old enough to have intimate knowledge of the Kathy Lehman Rule.

We settled on Vampiretta from Wal-Mart. It is long and sleek with a bodice. But when she puts in those goofy plastic fangs and adds the silly makeup, it takes the edge off the “vamp” and the “etta.” In the thrill of the costume hunt, she insisted I dress up as something. “You can be a Greek Goddess and Daddy can be Mark Antonio.”

 I’m not really feeling Goddess-like these days. Even if Daddy goes as Marc Antony or for that matter, Antonio Banderas.

No. I will dress as a Prude swathing myself in yards and yards of wrinkled, dark brown velveteen topped off with sleek chocolate leggings, penny loafers and a brown bow in my hair. The perfect Prude.

Or is that prune? Oh bother, whatever’s the difference?

*   The Kathy Lehman Rule. Don’t think you’re old. Because you’re not.