For my birthday this week Rockin' Roy invited some friends round for a 'Zombie Teen Biker Gang Pizza Jamboree' - inspired by April Ludgate-Dwyer of Parks n' Rec. And we also had cake.
This year I turned 32 and I can think of no better way to stave off the fear of getting old and falling apart than dressing up as a crumbling zombie. Each birthday I wonder have I done enough things in the last year? Did I make the most of the time? But as a zombie, you don't need to worry about your ambitions or biological clock because your ambitions involve finding some tasty brains and shuffling down hallways to Abba and your biological clock is irrelevant to eating brains. Braiiiinnnss.
I went for 1950's zombie chick. Bumper bangs, high ponytail, nylon scarves and a rockabilly shirt dress from Lindy Bop. Creepy zombie pictures below! I am wearing zombie make-up, but a hangover from the night before helped the look. What's more disturbing is that my face basically absorbed all the make up after about 2 hours where as everyone else looked zombified all night. My skin literally EATS make up, which is why I don't wear it everyday.
Birthdays are weird. I enjoy them, but I think the childhood ones and the extremely elderly ones are probably the best. When you're a kid you can't wait to be older, then there is this disturbing bit in the middle where you freak out about everything, then when you get right up there it's all 'Surprise bitches, I'm still here! Got a cake on my head, got shit to do, gonna live forever!' I'm in the weird middle bit at the moment.
First I was like 'awww'...
...and then like 'wait, so you've just tricked me into buying my own damn birthday presents?!'
Well played, Rockin' Roy, well played.