Where Halloween is concerned, I peaked in 2007. That fall, hundreds, maybe even thousands, or maybe just a handful of Americans with well-balanced diets were coming down with nasty bouts of E. coli thanks to contaminated bags of pre-washed spinach salad. And in a rare “eureka” moment, I capitalized on the whiff of terror in the air, translating a nation’s paranoia into a really strong homemade costume: “Evil E. coli Spinach.”
It was scary alright, and as you can imagine, not sexy.
Since then, I haven’t dressed up. But this year, I received an invitation to a very posh, very costume-mandatory Halloween party at a private home in the West Village. The theme? Gustav Klimt's [Woman in Gold](https://heavyeditorial.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/gustavklimtadele-bloch-bauers-portrait.jpg?quality=65&strip=all&w=780), with a 70s bent should you feel so inclined.
I tried to take the theme pretty literally, and I called in reinforcements: Thanos Samaràs, who has a magical way with wigs, and Carolina Dali, a makeup artist who lived in Vienna for almost six years and drew inspiration from Klimt’s work in person, not online. (Props!)
Last Saturday, they both came over, as did Tom, and set to work on a look I would describe as less Klimt and more “goth Game of Thrones,” which is secretly what I wanted. Klimt’s woman in gold had, shall we say, a somewhat conservative, severe black updo. I wanted Cersei Lannister Rapunzelite waves, era be damned. Thanos pulled “her” (as he describes his thoughtfully-styled creations) out of a COS bag and set to work re-plaiting sections of the wig with quiet, surgical precision. “I’m leaving you a little bottle of alcohol to dissolve the glue on the sides later. Remember, pull the wig off from the back—do NOT pull the lace front. This is a $6,000 wig.” Noted.
Carolina pulled up a photo of a different painting, a woman crying tears of gold out of hollowed taupe eyes, accompanied by a bitten berry lip. The tears were recreated using Makeup Forever Glitter on top of strategically placed Spirit Gum. Eyes and lips were courtesy of Tom Ford (Cognac Sable palette; Bruised Plum lipstick), and brows got the brown Boy Brow treatment. In totality, I looked like the Insta-hot version of the painting. “Fire,” as they say. Or maybe, “Slay.”
This was not something I was used to, so I did what anyone who is feeling themselves would do: Snapchat and selfie. I wonder how many selfies are taken by drunk girls after Halloween parties. I took 64.
Without further ado: please enjoy this Snapchat story of my Halloween weekend (this weekend I’ll be eating matzah ball soup and going to bed at 10 PM), to hopefully inspire yours. You’ll find naked people painted gold, off-duty male models serving crudités, me in a wigcap, and some actually useful and totally unrelated tips for getting cool-girl bends in your hair at the end. Enjoy!
Photographed by Tom Newton. Snapchat by Emily for @glossier.irl (follow us!). Hair by Thanos Samaras. Makeup by Carolina Dali.
Want to see what Emily looks like during the day? Peep her Top Shelf here.
