Blehhhh! Good evening, fashion fiends! Cursed by a gypsy to return once per year, the diabolical duo of Dr. Thorpenstein and Zackula has once more clawed its way forth from the grave. The worm-eaten ghouls stagger towards you with a grotesque gallery of Halloween costumes for kids. Dare you read on?
Dr. Thorpenstein: BoooOoooOOOooo! It's Halloween time again-- frights and screams abound at every turn! And as anyone who's ever seen Children of the Corn or whose girlfriend has ever been "late" knows, nothing is more spine-chillingly terrifying than kiiiiiiiiids! In this "spooktacular" edition of Fashion SWAT, Dr. Thorpenstein and Zackula take on a collection of mortifying costumes for evil children and creepy babies!
Zackula: A bell tolls. A bat squawks. Somewhere in her bed a witch cackles in her sleep. By the pale light of the unhallowed moon our ghoulish gathering is revealed. Children are in peril, for the most horrifying monster of all lives among us: parents.
Dr. Thorpenstein: "Uh... I don't think this is the stripper we ordered..."
Dr. Thorpenstein: "But I guess we can make do?"
Dr. Thorpenstein: "So, yeah, go ahead and take off your... shit, are you a boy or a girl?"
Zackula: "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Vinnie, what are you doing!?"
Zackula: "Don't apply no heteronormative pressure towards xim. Maybe xe's too young too know xer's place on the gender matrix 'society' has established for xim. Do you want the poor kid to grows up all messed up like us?"
Dr. Thorpenstein: "Oh, sorry, kid! You can go ahead and show me whichever pair of genitals you feel most comfortable with."
Zackula: A child cop stripper sting is the most meta idea yet for To Catch a Predator.
Dr. Thorpenstein: To Catch a Predator could save money on paying their child decoys if they just went with a single androgynous hermaphoro-child stripper cop.
Zackula: During the Great Depression all children looked like this - same expression and everything - but they all had polio.
Dr. Thorpenstein: They also employed a lot of child police officers during that era.
Zackula: They would work 18 hours for a radiator potato and could pursue criminals under cabinets. All the poors were skinny back then. Cabinet fleeing was a real problem.
Dr. Thorpenstein: To come at this from an entirely different angle: can you even imagine what an insufferable little shit a child dressed as a cop would be?
Zackula: Way easier to bribe them though.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Probably if they show up to your house to trick or treat, you only have to deal with like ten seconds of "Halt! Gimme all your candy, scumbag!" shit, but if you're the parent... God help you.
Zackula: "Mommy, on the night of October 23rd is it true that daddy hurt you in your bedroom like I heard and might I remind you lying to a child dressed as a police officer is a serious offense."
Dr. Thorpenstein: I'm thinking that the kind of kids who choose to dress like cops for Halloween have the same sort of frustrated asshole authority fantasies that drive awful dudes to become real cops when they grow up.
Zackula: Troubled children with non-specific genders gravitate towards fascism.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Then again, there are always the good ones. Good child police who grow up to be serious, hardworking adult detectives. "Christ, Mommy, the things I saw today. I mean, I hate to bring the job home with me, but... Christ. It never gets any easier."
Zackula: "This place used to be a Montessori. Now look at it. I don't even recognize these animals. Sometimes when it rains and the streets catch the reflection of a stoplight, I imagine it's snack time forever, and the rain is Hawaiian Punch washing all the scum into the sewers."
Dr. Thorpenstein: "Saw a young kid laying face-down on the bus today. Some son of a bitch tripped him. Kid couldn't have been older than me. What the hell is happening to this city, Mommy?"
Zackula: "Babies killing babies out there and I'm the baby between the babies."
Zackula: "The thin blue pull-up."
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.