It’s the work summer party tomorrow, which means one thing (it doesn’t it means lots of things but still shut up): fancy dress.
It may shock you to know I am not actually against the idea of fancy dress. In fact, I’m all for it. Whatever – do it. Dress like a prick. Or Iron Man. Though there’s a deal of crossover there.
But, as those attending said party will see for themselves tomorrow, I do have some rules when it comes to fancy dress for myself. Namely these:
-Do not use shop-bought costumes. What’s the point? It’s boring, and it means you’re wearing something some other prick has worn to another party at some point. Even if you are going as Tony Stark in his metalman suit, make it yourself. Even if it’s shit, at least you can laugh because who cares you made it yourself shut up I’M IDAHO.
-Do not put much effort into your costume. Because for all the way you might impress people on the day, nobody cares soon enough. Not even by the next day. Within hours the magic, the lustre is gone and you’re left with an impressive-looking ton of cardboard and sequins to waddle around in for the next god knows how long.
-Always break the first rule if it means you don’t have to put in as much effort as if you didn’t break it. See: my costume this year, which is shop-bought but also lacks effort. The perfect combo, really. When I saw the first rule didn’t have to be broken at a friend’s bad taste party a few years ago, I was glad to turn up with a coathanger wrapped around my head because it was easier than buying anything. It works both ways.
These are the rules of fancy dress. Obey them, or die. Also: blacking up – is that still totally cool when you play dress-up? Or has Mary Whitehouse and the fat cats at city hall ruined it for us god-fearing citizens who just want to ruthlessly mock minorities? It’s party political broadcasting gone mad.