Halloween Revisited

After at least three days of being tricked into a Halloween state of mind, I'm not sure this story will be much of a treat. The longest Halloween ever started for some this past Thursday, and I bet somewhere in New York right now there are still a few partying on. First of all, when did the Village Halloween parade get kidnapped by the straights and the Disney Channel crowd? It used to be a gayer, smaller, sexier, more risque parade. Only a few years ago, it was witches who were switches and a "Top" Chef costume would have looked much different. I guess over the years, observing through the amber-colored glasses of my Elvis costume, I didn't notice. It's not a bad thing, but it is different. Although the rain transformed some costumes, as running mascara turned Britney Spearses into Courtney Loves, and hobgoblins carried umbrellas ... but the spirit was not dampened at all.

My late date had me watching it a bit on the TV, which was quite fun, but there is nothing like being there. My favorite costume, not counting the ones people spent months perfecting, was a Kanye West. The genius had brought his pants legs down to hide his right shoe and stuck a fake severed foot in his mouth. I was my usual old Fat Elvis, although this year I added a hundred Alessi-drawing flies and lots of other creepy crawling things to my costume, as Elvis is deteriorating. By the way, if you ever have to pin a real freeze-dried insect to your costume or wig, penetrate the beastie in the thorax away from the head, or it wont stay. What a nightmare ... next year I’m going as Lady Gaga, if that’s still relevant.

I was at that hyped-up party at Broadway and 29th Street from the Jane crew. It was fun-ish. I was told in a very hush-hush whisper-whisper that Lady Gaga was showing up. Despite morbid curiosity about what she could possibly be wearing, my crew decided to cut out. “Lady Gaga is coming” whispers have become far too commonplace for me. I mean, it’s great that she’s out there, but it’s becoming passé to announce it. When Gaga becomes commonplace or passé, it’s time to go go. Patrick Duffy’s soiree christens Serpentine which is now deep into construction. We took a bike cab to his event, as getting around required thinking on your feet and lots of walking on them as well. The Serpentine party was fabulous, although of course it was near impossible to identify anyone. All were decked out and with someplace to go. Can’t wait for the official opening of the place—it’s going to be a winner.