The sexy cat gets a bad wrap as far as Halloween costumes go, but I don’t think it’s as bad as all that. Anyway, as I hurtle towards 30, I’m enjoying a renewed interest in the concept of sexy; not sure if it’s a mid-life crisis which will swiftly be followed by the purchase of an orange Lamborghini or if it’s the much-feted mystical confidence that you apparently develop when you finally start to feel ~at home in your body.
I have no Halloween plans this year (what kind of goth am I?), but if I was going out I might just dress as a sexy cat and sod the lot of you. Here’s my counsel for the defence of sexycat’s most common complaints;
1. It’s just an excuse to look slutty.
And? Elvira barely wore any clothes and she’s a boner-fide solid Halloween hero.
2. It’s not scary.
Neither is Carl the Ikea Monkey. Or baby North West. Or a sushi baby.
3. It’s unoriginal.
So is a Dia de los Muertos Catrina, Wayne and Garth, a Jeff Bridges Dude, Terry Richardson, a Lichtenstein lady and Heisenberg. Making a domestic pet look slutty is waaaay weirder than any of those things. Perverse, frankly.
[Topshop dress / Maison Michel ears / Topshop heels / Olympia Le Tan book]
