The Great Catsuit Debate

Every year when Halloween rolls around, my husband starts suggesting I go as Catwoman. Why? Because he'd like to see me in a head-to-toe pleather catsuit. Why? Because it's sexy.

Apparently it doesn't matter that I'm not built like Halle Berry (see example on the left) or that my sidekicks would be waist-high versions of Ironman and a silver Power Ranger or that the entire pleather ensemble would cost about $200 and would be horribly uncomfortable. Nor does it matter that some women, including those that are in their mid-30s and who have given birth not once, but twice, probably are best viewed fully-clothed (see unfortunate example on the right).

In R's mind, the only acceptable alternative to Catwoman is a "dead zombie ghoulie" complete with many flesh wounds in various stages of decomposition. As you might surmise, I'm never happy with my options...and the only way I can avoid the Great Catsuit Debate is to come up with something that I want to be far in advance of Halloween. I must be armed and ready with a costume idea that I can back like it's a higher calling. If I hesitate when defending my idea R will sense the hesitation and exclaim "Go as Catwoman!" and the debate will be on. And I don't know about you, but I've had my fill of debates this fall.