Strutting my stuff

At the JC Penney store where I work, we dress up in costumes several times a year. We had a pajama party theme last Halloween, beach party theme in the late spring, and this year, our Halloween theme was Western - cowboys and Indians. A good time is had by all, the customers think it's a hoot, and during the event, we don't have to dress up according to the company's fashion standard.

Unlike my associates, I do not posess (nor do any of my friends or family) anything remotely western (to say nothing of Indian/native American), and I wasn't willing to spend money on cowboy boots/hats, etc. So I decided to do country-western and dress as Dolly Parton. I got a tight-fitting mini dress at the Goodwill store, spike heels with a faux cow-hide finish, and borrowed a friend's blonde wig. I stuffed my bra with a dozen socks, struggled to put on pantyhose and the stupid shoes, did a dramatic makeup job, put on my glitziest jewelry (glitzy is not my style), and finally the wig.

Then I went hunting for my husband to take a photo of me in that getup, but he was out in the "back 40" and there was no way I could go fetch him while wearing those shoes, so I took some photos of myself in a full-length mirror. They all had some major flash action (I believe I stated before that I'm a terrible photographer), but this photo gives you the general idea.

When I was finished putting myself together, I thought, "You don't look like Dolly Parton. You look like an out-of-work hooker." That didn't seem like the right message to convey at a family store like JCP, so I quickly changed into a plaid shirt and jeans (SIZE 10, y'all!) and hurried off to work.

I didn't win a costume prize, but I did win the prize (a $10 JCP gift card) for my decorated pumpkin. The lasting prize for this failed costume was looking at my body in the tight dress and high heels and thinking, "Dang! You look pretty hot for an old broad!"