Unofficially, my Halloween celebration started on a Wednesday, a few days before my favorite holiday of the year. A local library invited the Austin Writers Roulette to perform in their monthly reading. Since I usually dress up to match the roulette theme, I had a myriad of costume choices since this occasion had no theme.
Three other authors joined me for the event. In a way, it was easier to produce this show since we’d all written bios, didn’t have to set up chairs and we’d all arrived by thirty minutes to showtime. The librarian who’d contacted me about this event was amazed. I told him I always asked my artists to arrive an hour before the event just so we could start on time. Besides, when a group of talented, creative people gather together, the quality of the conversation is so rich. We took our traditional group picture well before the show started.
Donna Dechen Birdwell opened the show, reading an excerpt from her speculative fiction, Way of the Serpent.
Mackenzie Irick Milks read a short fictional piece about a granddaughter returning to the islands for her grandfather’s funeral only to learn the sordid details about his life.
Stephanie Webb shared instances of her personal challenges of being a well-educated black woman marginalized in Austin.
I read three excerpts from my racy first novel, Tribe of One, about a single black women looking for love while still being a smart woman about the pursuit. One of the excerpts was about a one-night stand on Halloween and another was about the infamous “vibrator research” chapter. After reading that last one, I broke the news to the audience: the actual vibrator the main character decided to buy didn’t exist.
Afterwards, we moseyed across the street to eat dinner. Fortunately, the restaurant offered 1/2 price bottles of wine! The intellectual conversation, which had begun before the show, continued. This was the kind of occasion I always say I’d like to participate more in, but never seem to organize. I’m so glad it just happened.
Truly a feast befitting of a queen: a well-seasoned and composed salmon sandwich on fresh bread with a side of potato salad.
Donna couldn’t resist wearing the Cleopatra headdress!
A few days later, I dressed up as “Soul Sistah #9” to attend a 70s pot luck and disco party. I borrowed a friend’s larger-than-life Afro wig and was happy to see the hostess and her husband were both sporting Afro wigs as well.
This red sofa had my name all over it; so this shot was inevitable.
Since I arrived so early, due to the intermittent heavy rains, which did not delay me much, I entertained myself by taking pictures of the decor.
The party hosts had a room, separate from their house, dedicated to the 70s.
In addition to vinyl, concert posters of my musical heroes decorated the room and doors.
Looking at these artists, I wondered how many of the new entertainers today will enjoy such name recognition longevity.
They inspired me since, despite their success, they continued pursuing their passion.
One partygoer modified a pair of pants with some 70s style flair. We traded costuming stories. Come to find out, she’d taught outside the States. I wondered if there was some connection between international teaching and costuming.
Speaking of costuming, we were all so happy John Travolta’s iconic “Saturday Night Fever” suit was in the house.
Despite the torrential rains and flash floods caused by tornado watch conditions, many of us still turned out to share soul food 70s style. This meetup group has been growing in both size and creativity when it comes to its themes.
After everyone finished eating, “we” (meaning other people while I sat and watched) moved the tables and chairs to the side to clear the dance floor.
How wonderful was singing and dancing to every song that played!
The only challenge was trying to remember all the 70s style dances. No one knew how to do the hustle. I kept wishing my two older sisters had been there. They had been club-going teenagers during the 70s.
As if this night couldn’t get any better, there were three contests: best costume, best dancer and best dish.
We were all awarded with stereotypical 70s gifts: an ol’ school electronic football game, Simon and a lava lamp!
The following evening, one of my friends knocked on my door just as the first bowl of curried chicken and rice had completed warming up in the microwave. I immediately warmed up a bowl for her and made our white wine sangria. Actually, I’d chopped up the fruit and froze it hours prior; so they were like fruity ice cubes.
We arrived downtown prior to all the craziness–even too early to enter the Zombie Ball, our final party destination. While we waited for another friend to join us, we chilled out at a nearby restaurant.
Once she arrived, we saw we were wearing the same Pixie eyelashes.
We chalked it up to a female capoeirista thing.
The first thing we did was take a couple of souvenir group pictures.
The emcees dressed as “Salt N Pepper” to honor the headliners–although they were standing in the wrong order initially.
The most impressive female burlesque dancer of the night had an elaborate headdress.
At one point during her routine, she removed one of her plastic snakes.
Except this one was LIVE!
I’m so glad she didn’t get at all freaky with that snake. As she danced, I thought about how snakes were the ancient symbol of female sexuality.
A funk band that sounded and dressed as outlandish as Parliament and George Clinton performed. They had their own dramatic dancers.
My friends and I went outside to sit down. A woman approached me and gave me a ticket to be part of the women’s costume contest. For the first time since I’ve been attending the Zombie Ball, my poor little country mouse costume looked good enough to compete! I truly didn’t care whether I won.
I enjoyed getting future costuming tips, especially from this “Voodoo Queen” who was a finalist last year. As a matter of fact, the voting came between her and another woman who had a guy chained to her as a gimp slave–she (and he) won.
I didn’t notice how gruesome this woman’s costume was until I got up close and saw the collar was made to look like torn flesh. Yet, she, like me, didn’t really know how to hype the crowd to sell our costume. I rely so much on emoting my words.
Zipper-faced zombie had applied an actual zipper in realistic fashion. Just the kind of make up costuming that I haven’t explored yet.
Even wolf in sheep’s clothing had awesome costume makeup.
Zombie Marie Antoinette with Glinda the Good Witch behind her both were selected since they had very high headdresses–Voodoo Queen, who is a professional costume designer, clued me into the fact that people correlate “quality” with the height of a headdress.
In all the Zombie Balls I’ve attended, they never once had a male burlesque dancer.
And a black one at that!
I’m guessing this guy performed since Salt N Pepa were the headliners.
(Author’s Note: That’s his HAND between his legs!)
The dancing aerial group followed his performance.
I loved their little zombie sequence. They had to do the beginning over again since the music failed the first go around. Better a music fail rather than an equipment fail!
Every time I see aerial dancers, I tell myself the same lie: I’m going to take a few classes, knowing full well I don’t like pain. Nonetheless, maybe once yoga heals my hips…hmm, sounds like I’m lying again.
Then, we, the audience, went back in time 30 years and enjoyed an 80s styled concert.
They even gave us a hip-hop quiz by playing the first part of an 80s song, abruptly turning off the music and allowing the audience to belt out the lyrics.
By the end of the night, we electric boogalooed out of there.
Absolutely fantastic way to end a three-day Halloween celebration.
