Helping The Heroes for Halloween 0
Halloween is a week and two days away but that’s not going to stop me from celebrating it early. Legends, the local venue I often mention, hosted a charity event Help for Heroes to raise money for those injured in the Iraq war. An opportunity to help out, get drunk, dance and most importantly, dress-up. Luckily for me it’s a Halloween disco and with my entire wardrobe suitable for the horror show, the task is picking out what to wear.
Various coloured wigs are thrown about my bedroom as I scramble about trying to find a hair net and after deciding that the colours didn’t match my intended outfit of choice, I decided to go for a more natural look. It’s pitch black outside, the joy of winter is upon us, and with hungry parents eager to go into town I am racing against the clock. Using white powder I’m able to give myself a ghostly sick glow and darkening my eyes with the blackest eyeshadow, I’m beginning to achieve the dead look that I want. I’m then pulled into my corset that gives me a 25″ waist, complimented with wet look leggings and over-the-knee PVC boots, I’m pretty much ready to go.
The finishing touch to my look was some theatrical fake blood which I smeared across my chin and mouth, a cut on the side of my face and long scratches down both of my arms. I grin to myself as I clean the glitter and blood of the sink in the bathroom, realizing that it’s so typical of me.
My boyfriend finishes work and jumps into his full-body Mummy morphsuit that he bought for the Halloween celebrations. It’s cold outside so he decides to wear it under jeans and a shirt, accessorised with a fedora hat. This itself was an outfit, giving him the look of the ‘Invisible Man’ which people called him throughout the night. A quick photo session and we head into town to meet friends at the local pub for a few drinks.
The pub was busy and as I pushed open the door, I was not only greeted by my two awaiting friends, but the staring eyes of those sitting at the bar. I guess they aren’t used to dead zombie-girls and full body lyrca Mummies, eh? A quick double vodka lemonade and a shot of sambucca gives me the confidence I need to carry me through the night.
Time is ticking on and I’m not wanting to miss out on the action so we head up to the party venue, paying the £5 entrance fee and receiving a jelly vodka shot. Looking around, I see that everyone is dressed up in various outfits, some a lot more extreme and outrageous than others. I fit in perfectly and for the first time, feel part of the community.
A few of my favourite songs play and I whisk the boyfriend onto the dancefloor where we remained for the duration of the night. My friends eventually shuffled up the highstreet and joined us later that night, along with my friend from work who put on a great karaoke performance. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the decorations from my party were still stuck to the walls, a new look for the normally dull venue and I also noticed that a lot of the songs I used for my party were also being played. It’s good to know that I’ve got great taste.
It was a positive night with no drama, asides a little cat-fight on the dancefloor between two girls. My partner and I both received a lot of compliments regarding our outfits but for me, it was my normal clothing with a bit of blood. Every day is Halloween for me, as my friends say on a regular basis.
The Gorewhorror Show 0
In reponse to my previous entry, The Gorewhorror Show was a success. A hectic Saturday of glitter, feathers, lace and a handful of unfortunate mishaps. A glass of champagne keeps me calm while I’m trying to redirect my friend from Scotland’s capital after she missed the bus. A traffic jam delayed her even more and while I’m painting the glitter on my eyes and being constricted into my black and red corsetted Living Dead Soul dress, I have to leave the security of the Internet and head to the venue.
The parents have been in the kitchen all day preparing a large amount of food for my buffet. Indian snacks, chicken bites, pizza slices, filled rolls, savoury snacks and various sweets of popcorn, marshmallows and sherbert sticks. Arriving at the venue, I’m ushered by my group of whorrors who came along an hour early to help set up and ultimately keep me calm. I’m wearing a gorgeous pair of glitter Bordello platform heels but moving at a fast speed proved to be a difficult challenge so I appreaciated having all those extra hands. The buffet table gives an indication of the colour theme; red and black with a hint of silver, giving the venue the elegance that it so desperately requires.
The colourful assortment of cupcakes were designed and created by my friend from work who, regardless of having a wedding the night before, still managed to prepare 30 off these perfect treats. The cupcake cases were blue with pink roses, appropriate to me and my love for roses and each cake was then coated in coloured icing and decorated with edible butterflies. My friend also bought a cupcake stand to display her work and edible heart and rose decor were placed between the cakes for the guests to consume. As if that wasn’t a fantastic present already, she hands me a large present, a designer Paul’s Boutique skull rose bag to be exact and a Hello Kitty umbrella, a combined present from her and her Mum (who I also work with). Gob-smacked was the word to describe the look on my face at the time as I just squealed and stomped by feet in excitement. It goes without saying that this is now my new favourite daily-use bag.
Did I mention that my friends are awesome at baking? My other friend, who recently left our workplace to move to Aberdeen, took the responsibility of making my birthday cake and she definately didn’t let me down. Arriving at the venue in a taxi, she runs inside to ask for help bringing the cake in before revealing it to me. Again, I just squealed and leapt into her arms. She created a two-tiered cake with a chocolate exterior, decorated with ribbon and edible pearl balls. The theme of the cake is rose (Kari Rose) and the centerpiece features a red rose which is surrounded by edible rose leaves which she crystalised with sugar. Officially the best cake I’ve ever seen and I appreaciate the hard work and effort that she went to prepare it in time. She also gifted me a bottle of sparkling rosé wine, my favourite!
With the buffet table finally set up, it’s time to get a round of cocktails in. Thanks to my Manager at work, she laminated all my menus so they would be long-lasting and more likely to survive any drink spillage. First cocktail of the night? The Kari Rose, of course. With a reference sheet for the barmaid, my drinks were produced exactly how I wanted them and even I found myself impressed. We’re all from a small fishing town on the coast so cocktails are a rare occurance as our local pubs see them as an inconvenience and charge a fortune. I wanted cocktails at my party so I got cocktails.
So it’s 15 minutes until the doors open and I hand over my USB stick to the owner of the venue to transfer my music setlist onto his laptop. Diaster strikes when the laptop shuts down during the transfer, causing my flash-drive to become corrupt and unresponsive upon the restart. I’m told not to panic as he grabs his jacket and runs down to his house to check if it would work on his PC. A Royal Sapphire cocktail is keeping me calm, alongside the reassuring text message from my friend from the city who has managed to find her way across the country and is approaching our small town. Now unfortunately the owner returns with a disappointed expression, claiming that my USB stick is broken due to the shut-down and after discussing with my whorrors for other possible suggestions, offers to drive me home to pick up my laptop; the source of my music.
It’s now 8pm, the starting time for the party and I quickly say goodbye to my current friends who I have to abandon as I jump into the owner’s white van and we drive up the countryside as fast as possible while I phone my brother at home telling him to prepare my laptop and have it ready for me to collect. My heart is racing so fast, having a mild panic at the fact that my music failed to work on the one night I required it. Thankfully my brother packed up my Dell like I asked in it’s Hello Kitty bag and handed it to me as the van pulled up outside my house and on the duration back to town, I quickly put all the songs that I wanted from my library into a folder ready for it to be transfered to the venues laptop.
I scurry back into the party, clinging my pink laptop and wait patiently by the stage while it transfers and scans. Success, at last! My music is playing through the speakers, the lights are dimmed, the fairy lights around the wall are sparkling and my friends are beginning to come through the door.
I had requested for the stage to be errected for my party and I was able to decorate the plain walls with foil drapes and photos of gothic girls and the finishing touch of tinsel. The centerpiece was my dancepole which secured between the stage and a metallic beam in the roof. The venue has a suspended roof so we had to remove one of the ceiling tiles and carefully place it against the beam. This meant that my pole wasn’t secure enough for suspended tricks (no jumping or hanging from it) and I tried my best to ensure that all my guests knew this. Unfortunately, like at all parties, you get the uninvited who come and wreck all your hard work. Yes, within no time at all, a girl attempted to swing off my pole causing it to promptly come down with a thud.
With the majority of my guests with a cocktail glass in their hands, I finally got the phonecall from my friend who had successfully made it into town thanks to people on the bus knowing who I am. I sent my partner down the road to collect her and moments later we were reunited in an excited hugging scramble. At the same time, more of my friends are coming through the door and drinks are coming at me right, left and center. I’m then pulled up onto the dancefloor where I remained for the duration of the night after kicking off my killer heels and prancing about like a fool.
I loved the effort that people went to regarding the outfits, the girls dressed in true burlesque style and the boys suited up all smart. As the night progressed and the venue filled up, it was obvious to see who was or wasn’t invited by the way they dressed. Although I advertised my event as ‘private’, it seems people don’t respect that and see a party as a free-for-all so I was quite disappointed to see some faces of people that I intentionally didn’t invite. As the night finished, it was obvious to see that some people have no class or respect as my foil curtains that I had pinned up above the doorways to the toilets had been pulled down, drinks had been carelessly spilled everywhere and there was some carnage up at the buffet table.
I couldn’t hold a grudge for too long as I was surrounded by people who love and care for me, making my 21st Burlesque Bash an event that I’ll never forget. I just want everyone to know how much I appreaciated them being there and I’m so greatful for all the gifts and cards that I got. Burlesque is my dream profession and I’m always trying to educate those who don’t know about the art of the tease so it was inspiring to see the community show their support.
A very happy 21st birthday! 1
Today I’m celebrating my 21 years of existance and looking ahead towards the downward spiral called “life” As you can tell my expressionless face behind my laptop, I’m not looking forward to it.
No, I can’t complain too much as I’ve had a great day and tomorrow I’m having my party with my friends whorrors. So what did I get for my 21st birthday? That would be telling but I am willing to share a poem that my online friend Simon wrote for me.
Never had I got to meet,
Uniqueness in person.
As she sits on her seat,
Never lets her days worsen.
Her blog, so carefree and true,
Speaks out to me and you.
Don’t know her sadly.
I smile and giggle, without say.
Never cease to make me smile… madly.
But what would I know.
I don’t wear a fetish collar,
I doubt I’d give it a go.
But she speaks to me in her blog.
Makes me feel she has the time,
Through this internet fog.
From the rants and reviews.
To the songs you sing,
And the occasional “mew”s
With every word you have written and say.
Thank you above all for being you.
And for everything that you do.
I don’t need a shop-bought gifts, I don’t even need money. It’s the little things like this that make me smile and make me all warm inside. The perfect gift and one of the many highlights of my special day.
Tomorrow I’m hosting what I call “The Gorewhorror Show”, a burlesque themed party that will destroy every other party hosted in our small town village prior to mine. I’m a perfectionist, a control-freak and a creative designer. Combine this and you have one busy party organiser.
Invitations were sent out accordingly through Facebook events and posted around my work-place. The people who appreaciate my style and outlook on life are welcomed with open arms to experience a party with a twist. My invite is as follows.
I don’t want to reveal any spoilers because the party hasn’t occured yet but I’ve errected a dance pole on a stage in the center of the dancefloor for my performing burlesque girls. For one night only I’m going to turn my little fishing village into a classy freak-show.
Oh and if you get thirsty you can order one of my self-created (and self-titled) cocktails. In the good taste of arrogance it was only expected that I named a cocktail after myself and my partner.
I just want to thank everyone who wished me a happy birthday, it means a lot. I’ll try my best to take photographs of my party tomorrow night but that will all depend on how many cocktails I manage to drink. Watch this space.