Photo of Dolores Costello
I wish... I had thrilling, fright-filled plans for Halloween. It seems like this year I'm the only one in the Halloween spirit, carving faces and stars into tiny pumpkins and shrouding the house in a spellbinding layer of faux-cobwebs. While I lay out dresses on my bed and try to put together an especially lovely costume, the people and houses around me are completely devoid of all festivities. There's not so much as one decoration on my street and I've yet to hear about any ghoulish balls, not to mention the fact that due to its prickly price, Universal Studios' Halloween Horror Nights is completely out of the question. Who knows... there are still three days before All Hallows Eve. Perhaps something exciting will come up?
I wish... for wardrobes overflowing with costume jewelry and faded tulle tutus and old silk dresses and spider-web gowns. I wish for the costumes of 1920's circus performers strung up on silk ribbon hangers, overpowering whole city blocks with the tart smell of cigar smoke and a back-flipping acrobatic history. I want dresses that speak and sing for themselves, dresses with a certain spark and vigor and charm - I want clothes that can swing from the ceiling or hang around my neck and still hold the same iridescent, dazzling power.
I wish... to speak only in the most precise of words, to tango with language as though it were a seasoned partner. I want to use the most vivid of adjectives, the sweetest of verbs, the most cunning of nouns and the most tranquil of soliloquies. I want to fill whole novels with beautiful, unintelligible phrases that roll off the tongue like raindrops in the grass - to wrap myself around my English language lover and shake through the soles of the world. I want to be that girl that is never at a loss for words.
I wish... for ballet flats and cafe mochas.
So, goblins, in this glorious week of tricks and treats and costume balls, what do you wish for?