Angel in Blue Jeans.
When you head out at 11 to start your Halloween festivities and it's barely skimming 40 degrees outside, you improvise. Hence my lounging around various haunts in Adams Morgan Saturday night wearing a fluffy white maribou halo, feathered wings, white shirt and ... blue jeans and heels. Because wearing the halo and wings with lingerie would have just been so, impractical, you know? Special mention to the girl in the first bar who slobbered that she'd give me "$100 if you can guesssh wha my costhtume is, and if yacan't I get to kissshh you." She would have officially been the most inappropriate person I encountered all night had it not been for the guy at the last spot--a tiny, upstairs salsa joint that I couldn't find again if I had to--who insisted on trying to lick my face while I was dancing. Costume ideas for both next year: someone who knows when to stop drinking.