She walks among the tombstones with an air of ease. If she knew I was watching, maybe it would not be so. The bleak graveyard accentuates the deep red of her dress and the rosy hue of her intoxicating presence. She’s been to a ball again.
I do not know if it is out of guilt or habit that she comes here tonight. She follows the familiar pathways back to me. To what’s left of me. She kneels in the dirt, cool wind playfully flicking her curls.
The pattering nuisance of the rain hammers harder, yet despite its efforts it soaks me not. My darling Portia is equally unperturbed. The rain bites at her porcelain skin. It flattens her hair to her flushed cheeks. It deepens the red folds of her gown into pools of fresh blood. No single tear mingles with the rainwater. If her body is far from me, her mind is further.
She lies a singular rose upon my earthen corpse and sits there, reminiscing. I look toward the house I once called my home. Lights engulf the outer porch and ballroom windows. Singing and merriment beckon from within. And yet my widow lies out here with me, allowing her foolish new husband to orchestrate this grand soiree without his sweet songbird.
I glide closer to her, hoping my ethereal senses will grant me just the smell of her perfume, the beat of her heart, the warmth of her chest. Not so. I want to feel the blood coursing through her veins. I want to feel her in my arms once again. Just once.
Once is enough.
She is too deep in thought to see me. I reach out to stroke her hair and she shivers uncontrollably. I put my arms around her, and her crimson lips turn purple. The heat is seeping out of her. I can almost feel it. So close! She tries to stand, but I won’t let her.
Finally, she sees me. She looks up with those wide hazel eyes and truly sees me. And her poor, frail, mortal heart ceases. She becomes as cold as me. I look upon her soft body one last time. Soon, my love.
But what if?
Only once more…
More often than not.
Not a chance.
Are you certain?
Nothing makes sense.
Sense doesn’t matter.
Matters are out of control.
Control is hard to keep under.
Underneath it all I’m not okay.
Okay? The answer is yes.
Yes is a lie.
Lies get us nowhere.
Nowhere? I want to be somewhere.
Somewhere with you, but I can’t.
Can’t do it. It’s impossible.
But what if?
Again, we may have cheated a little on Elsa’s outfit… but it was totally worth it!
– Approx 2 metres of blue material.
– 2 metres of crappy but pretty and shimmery material (would not recommend, nightmare to sew).
– Light blue zip.
– Light blue corset
Approximate cost: £11 (With corset, £41)
We didn’t make templates for this outfit. We wrapped the skirt material around my flatmate, pinned it, hemmed it, put a slit in it and fitted it. The sleeves and cape were more awkward purely because of the material, but the end result was really worth it.
The next costume we made was Mulan’s Geisha outfit. Only it wasn’t any of the women that picked her out of the hat.
Is it ironic that a male friend of mine dressed up as the female Disney character who spends most of the movie pretending to be a man? Nah, I thought not.
This surprisingly was one of the easiest costumes we made. Because we may have cheated a little bit. Time was running out, so I bought a big pink cardigan off eBay and bought the other materials to wrap around it.
So here’s how you make your Drag Queen Mulan –
– Pink Cardigan.
– Approx 2 metres of white cotton.
– 1.5 metres of navy blue.
– A strip of red (left over from Aladdin’s belt).
– White zip.
Approximate cost (including delivery of cardigan) £13
– Length (Shoulder to ankle)
– Shoulder to boob
– Shoulder to armpit
Please note: the template for the straps aren’t on here. I somehow managed to lose them.
The front part of the dress I found particularly difficult to do. Making the pleats and shaping it better to my body was easy, but making the top part of the dress look ruffled and less straight edged was infuriating. Nevertheless, here’s how it turned out: