Friday night I went to the Procession of the Ghouls at St. John the Divine cathedral in Morningside Heights. I don't visit churches of other faiths too often, it was interesting to see how they worshipped.
Up on that screen the showed the 1920's Phantom of the Opera with live organ accompaniment.
And then the Ghouls processioned through the cathedral.
Scariest ghoul? Dead Pope. Or Dead Archbishop. Dead Cardinal?
And then Saturday night JB threw a total blowout at his house in Harlem.
Lindsay was in town. Can you bee-lieve it?
Emily was a fine Strawberry Shortcake. She had a Custard cat, too.
Freeloader.
Jessica is a spooky makeup professional.
Rustin, also in town, killing it as Katy Perry.
Very cheeky, Karene.
Vanessa's Mary Poppins was practically perfect in every way.
Alpha the Black Swan. There was another Black Swan there somewhere, I think Alpha made short work of her. Also . . . in the back there, is that Collin's ghost?
Ashley, her spider lit up. My shutter was no match for it.
Dave and Tracy.
Paul and Babe.
Along with Jendar's Andy Warhol.
Marcus' Dr. House
There to see the tapestries.
Tennis Jen.
Stephanie as my Mom or Grandma's likely favorite costume.
Jes as Dahli.
Taylor as Sexy Sax Man.
But what was I? Well. I wanted to be a fat vampire, but my pillow (for to look fat) didn't look very good under my shirt. So I was just a not very good vampire. First problem: I had a reflection.
Trish: A very good garden gnome.
Check out Judy's Alexander McQueen costume. He wanted the women in his clothes to be feared, you know.
Ty, a scary Karate Kid skeleton.
The host.
And outside the apartment: two hallways worth of rainboots.
And on the subway: Amigos.
It's kind of hard to believe I've got another days worth of Halloweening ahead of me. This holiday is relentless.
