St. Pauli Girl

First we were bored today. We carved pumpkins. We mended. We cleaned. We organized. Yes, we played dice, too. We just put in a movie when our first customer of the day wandered in with his 20-something son.

"Welcome to the costume shop. How can we help you?"

"Can you dress me up like a great big whore?" says a barrel-bodied man wearing denim from head to toe with a patriotic cap perched atop his head.

"Of course!" we replied.

It was play time.

The magenta saloon gal dress was a strike - too small for this guy.

But wait! We have a new and significantly large renaissance dress that was donated by a woman recently liberated of much of her weight. Let's try it out.

As we laced this good sport into the bodice, pulling tighter and tighter around his belly, he imagined how this might all play out.

"So do you have wigs?" he asked.

"He should be a blond with those sparkly blue eyes," offered his son.

"We can go black or white," I suggested.

Once we had him strapped in, inserted fake breasts, plopped a wig on his head, I announced that he looked like the St. Pauli Girl, with a curious mustache . . . and a little hair on her back.

Well we have all heard about those German Frau's - not all of them are buxom AND petite!

He went away a happy customer, looking forward to assuming his Halloween personality. We gave him some tips on accessorising his costume. He'll be beautiful.

We fixed up his son like an Australian Cowboy - I'm sure there's some other official name for them down under. But he looked good.

We couldn't talk him into a pink bandanna for his throat. Unlike his father he didn't want there to be any speculation about his gender or orientation.

The Runaway Bride from last year donated his bridal gown yesterday.

And Fred Flintstone walked out the door with a

"YABADABDOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

We have TONS of costumes just waiting for you to assume the character.

Come on out and play Dress Up!