Arrrrrrr Bugger.

Pirate [pahy-ruht]. 

 I'd scoured the hire shop for things resembling "David Bowie in Labyrinth.  You know, the Goblin King?  Mullet, tights, codpiece? No?"   
(As an aside, am deeply, deeply troubled by the lack of knowledge that employees in costume hire shops possess of 80's fantasy children's movies starring puppets and music icons.  It's not like it's a broad genre) 

But The Tall Guy couldn't come play dress up with us.  (Organising a wake for his brother instead, humph, it's amazing the lengths that man will go to in order to avoid wearing a wig and eyeshadow.)  
((All jokes regarding the tragedy have been pre-approved by The Tall Guy. He's the one who found it funny, after all, when the ashes went missing at the wake.  Said it was pretty typical behaviour for his brother to go AWOL at any party, why not his own last bash.)) 

And so the Pugs and I went it alone, hopeful that someone would recognise my stripy baby, puffy white shirt, long dark hair, and appropriate pieces of jewelry to be traded with Hoggle and the Wiseman for assistance, (Oh, did I not mention I was a Labyrinth geek?) and holler "Hey!  You're that chick from that movie!  With the baby!"

Reader/Spambots, they did not. 

I got a few confused looks, and "Are you a pirate?" when I pointedly asked friends what they thought my costume was.

Not a Pirate. [not a pahy-ruht].  I'm holding a fricken peach, dudes, what else do you want from me?

No photos exist of me that day, but rest assured I looked VERY SIMILAR to this.  Maybe a bit less dazed.  And apparently, a bit more  buccaneerish.   If I was Long John Silver, I'm not sure if they thought Pugsley was a very small pajama-wearing Jim Hawkins, or a really really crap attempt at a parrot.  


I think most people just thought I was trying to bring the puffy shirt back.  

On the plus side, the Pugs later attended our mum's group party as the world's most ADORABLE black widow spider, and I got to eat cake and sausages without anyone asking me if I was Blackbeard.