If You Go Down to the Woods Today...

My friend, Suzy, held a zoo-themed party this weekend.  I’d been excited about it for months…ever since I saw the words “costume not optional” on the invite. 

“Perfect time to rock our his & hers matching fleece tiger one-sies!” I exclaimed happily.  (No purchase necessary – we already had them taking up space in the airing cupboard.  I promise we’re not furries.) 

M’s reaction was initially more along the lines of: “Over my dead [endangered large cat] body.” 

His reticence for making a total ass of himself in public, however, is no match for my rabid enthusiasm for same.  I’m a persuasive girl when it comes to costuming.

So up we rocked at about 6 p.m. to an outdoor BBQ in full swing, resplendent in aforementioned tiger suits (so comfortable -- should be de rigueur party-wear!  I added sequined Tom’s wedges for effort.)   

We were greeted by our hostess, a ladybug, and her husband, a tall, lanky Scooby Doo in studded S&M(ish) dog collar.  (Did he buy it specifically…or like us and the tiger suits, did he already have it?  The mind boggles.)

Assorted rabbits, cat(women), psychedelic eagles, butterflies etc were gathered around the watering hole, sipping beers in relative harmony.  There were also a couple of dogs -- actual dogs -- running around, dressed in human clothes.  (Suitably impressed by their canine grasp of irony.)

As the night wore on, more animals arrived – flamingos, chickens, a “party animal” (very clever) and a large and vocal contingent of zebra, who turned out to be the true wild beasts.  Big drinkers, those zebra – as rowdy and raucous as the stripes would suggest.  

Top prize, though, goes to Teenwolf, who showed up late (probs direct from the school basketball game.)

Legend.

I’ll leave you with a photo of M and I, taken circa 2 a.m., that I think says all you need to know about the end of the night.  

 Just two pink-haired tigers, living the DREAM. 

As you do...