This is so great. My boyfriend's dressed up as J. Edgar Hoover...with FBI badge, vintage fedora and black dress.
He's wearing my big black muumuu and my tights. He didn't UNDERSTAND tights. I had to be like, "No, you bunch it up and stick your foot — STOP. JUST STOP. You're ruining everything! BUNCH IT UP THEN STICK YOUR FOOT IN! Do you just pull socks up — you PULL SOCKS UP!?" Idiot. No wonder he goes through so many socks!
He's getting dressed and whining about how the dress is too short. And I'm like, "Just tug it down over your ass constantly...that's what I do with that dress!"
Around the time that I was putting on his makeup, I think he became traumatized. We got the lipstick on but the mascara was confusing. Upper lashes were fine, but lower lashes were scary. He whispers "HOW DO YOU DO THIS?" and I'm like "It makes life happen."
I hope he remembers not to touch his mouth and to cross his legs otherwise he is gonna make the wrong kind of friends.