Last week at work, some of the younger staff decided to dress up for Hallowe’en, and I, never passing by an opportunity to wear a costume, agreed to participate. The theme was Star Trek, but since I didn’t have anything remotely Spock-y, I scoured the closets until I discovered the blonde wig that I had worn in the past to impersonate Taylor Swift. I didn’t actually want to dress AS Taylor Swift, since I’m not that angsty and don’t wear my heart on my sleeve (although that would have been an awesome costume idea in retrospect—blonde wig, red dress, anatomically correct plastic heart tied to my arm oozing fake blood), so I did the next obvious thing. I decided to go as Barbie. But not just ANY Barbie—mostly because I don’t own anything pink. But Ken had a fedora, and I had a vest, so I decided to go as Barbie-Heimer. It was, I admit, decidedly weak when compared to other Barbie-Heimer costumes I’ve seen on the internet, but I thought it was cute. And at work on Hallowe’en, I got a lot of compliments. At a certain point, I stopped calling myself Barbie-Heimer (because most people were confused and didn’t get the reference) and started calling myself the One Of A Kind Barbie, and customers were like, “Oh, that’s adorable.” And I was. Or at least I thought I was.

Close to lunch, a customer I know slightly came in and she was all excited. “The Goodwill up the street has Louis Vuitton handbags! I just bought one, and they have more!” My heart leapt, because as you may or may not know, I am currently obsessed with LV bags since the little fake one I had mysteriously disappeared. I asked my 23-year-old boss if I could take lunch early and I raced over to the Goodwill. Sure enough, there were two Louis Vuitton handbags (replicas, of course) in the showcase for like 25 bucks each, so I took both and lined up to pay. The girl who had gotten them out of the showcase for me looked like she was in her late teens/early twenties, and she was wearing gothic makeup and some kind of spiderwebby costume under her smock:

Me: I like your costume.
Girl: What costume?
Me: Oh nothing. I’m Barbie!
Girl (looks me up and down): No.
Me: You don’t think so?
Girl: Noooo.
Me: I was going for a kind of Barbie/Oppenheimer vibe…
Girl: Hmmm. Ok, maybe.

And while many people might have been offended or upset, I thought it was hilarious and laughed about it all the way back to work, clutching my new fake Louis Vuitton handbags. When I brought them home, I told Ken the story:

Ken: She’s nuts. You look just like a Barbie doll.
Me: I know, right?
Ken: And you’re going to sell the purses, right?
Me: What? No way! Barbie needs designer bags, KEN.