I had been told to buy a fancy dress costume, but when I returned home I saw that I had bought a Monopoly board game themed wifebeater, emblazoned with the slogan, ‘This is how I roll.’
This is because I absolutely hate fancy dress. Fancy dress is an ongoing punishment for those amongst us who believe people should dress so as not to be naked, rather than to ‘present themselves to the world’. (Cue jazzhands). Fancy dress is a pernicious, sneaky disease which is slowly ravaging some of the social events I most enjoy. It used to be fancy dress on one day a year- Halloween.
I did not mind this, dressing in a variety of costumes whose unifying theme was ‘jeans’. One year, for instance, I wore jeans and a hoody, and handed out skittles. (Drug dealer). Another year I wore jeans and a t-shirt, and asked everybody for directions. (Tourist). Halloween is totally manageable.
What is far less manageable is this newfound delight in making normal, previously-fun occasions fancy dress. A birthday party does not need its guests to wear ‘Something beginning with P’, although that’s a pretty nice theme, all things considering- pants are not that hard to come across. Housewarmings, unless you have recently moved into a house-boat, should not be entitled, ‘Boats and Hoes’.
Fancy dress is attention-seeking, childish and annoying. Which is why my upcoming birthday will be ‘normal clothes only’. I worked hard for those compliments, and resent having to share the limelight.
unfashionablylost 