Purim: Costumes and Conundra

Well, it's t-minus 3 hours to Purim and I still have no idea where I'm going for Megillah. I'm slightly less conflicted about where to go for the "after-party"--there's an easy choice and a harder one, and why make things harder on myself during a holiday commemorating drunk and disorderly behavior the redemption of the Jews from certain annihilation?

Besides, Purim isn't thrilling me all that much this year. Maybe it's too many Purims on the Upper West Side, but I'm starting to feel like the Grinch who stole Purim, which upsets me, because it's the one day a year when I'm guaranteed that Jewish men are going to be thinking about Esther as a queen. Last couple of Purims (Purimim?) I've felt the excitement wane, as the enthusiasm of the "boos" against Haman seemed to diminish and seem more perfunctory than wholehearted. This year, Purim seems to have spawned--not only are there 47 parties to choose from tonight, but the madness has extended to Saturday night, with several popular events, including the Makor/Y/Hazon Purim Spiel, which is not at Makor, because there is no Makor anymore/not yet (UWS location is closed, downtown location--which will be reborn as 92yTribeca--isn't quite open yet).

Plus, as much as I enjoy a good feminist interpretation of Biblical stories, it seems that in recent years, the image of Esther has emerged as manipulative, but subservient queen to Vashti's independent, feminist spirit--an image which I, as an Esther-not-Vashti aspiring to take pride in my name and heritage, have some difficulty with.

And then there's the costume thing. I ran into a Galena on the street two days ago (I'm pretty sure it was Isaac, but sorry, I don't know which one because identical twins are really confusing), and explained my problem with costumes, whether they're for Halloween or Purim, but especially on Purim. Problem #1 is the fact that when women dress up in costume we're required to be both clever and attractive. Or at least attractive. (See also "Dress Like a Whore and You'll Be Fine," over at JDaters Anonymous.) Add to that the fact that many of us are going to shul before we party, and you may have to add a layer of tznius (modesty) over your clever-but-skimpy costume; extreme makeup, if clownish, seems to have communal approval, but the f&#%-me-red lipstick and fake gold eyelash extensions are on the iffy list. Then, compound everything by trying to gauge, in advance, how crowded the party you're going to is going to be, and how many layers you should wear in case the venue is too hot, or too cold, and how to reconcile that with outerwear that may crush, or worse, ruin the visual impact of your costume.

So there are several ways to "meta myself out" of having to wear a costume. If I am Esther, and Esther is an acceptable costume, then I can be myself. Or, since we are all the masks we wear on a daily basis and no person can ever really know another person, then I can come in costume as myself and no one will know it's me; even if they think it is, they will never know for certain. Or I could dust off that old cap-and-gown combo from college and claim to be graduating from something...which I should probably graduate from anyway...but that will be a last-ditch effort.

But I'm running out of time before I have to leave for megillah reading, who-knows-where...maybe I'll blindfold myself and walk in one direction until I find myself in a shul, and then point myself in another direction until I arrive at a party. Is that something that Esther would have done? Or is that too Vashti of me?

Purim's supposed to be about turning things upside down, about the confusing place where what's clear becomes unclear, and things aren't what they seem. So if during the week, I don't understand Twitter, maybe I'll engage in a Purim Twitter Drinking Game tomorrow. Or maybe Twitter will become even more confusing. Or clear. I don't know. Let's turn something on its head and see what happens.

And remember that you heard it here first...the most popular costume this year will be guys wearing signs that say "Client #9." Drink every time you see one of those guys and you'll be drunk before the first "Haman."

(And remember, kids....don't drink and drive.)

Comments

[PepGiraffe]

Hear, hear. I was unenthused about Purim this year and all the choices just made me overwhelmed. As it was, I decided just to go with my regular synagogue. It was fine. I thought it was kind of weird that the PurimSpiel was a take off of a Christmas Carol, but you can't have everything. I didn't make hamantaschen and I didn't distribute shaloch manos. I own close to twenty graggers and I forgot all of them at home. Next year, I think I'm going to make a costume out of graggers. GraggerWoman.