Wednesday was Noche de las Touristas at Locacola. And it was our first attempt at dressing for carnival. What better night to dress than the night of the tourists, right? I mean, come on, if an American and a Brit can't dress like tourists, it's pretty sad. So we did ourselves up in Hawaiian shirts, shorts, knee-high socks and sandals and rouged up our faces and necks (except around the eyes) to get that sun-baked Anglo look.
We got a few laughs on the street from people who didn't realize we weren't really tourists. But when we arrived at the party we realized we had under-thought the whole thing. Carnival is about excess; it's about being over the top. Larger than life is just the right size, and all that. I knew that drag queens and carnival go together like peanut butter and jelly, but I had no idea that everyone turns into a drag queen during this week.
Take the example of a friend of ours who took the whole tourist theme to the next level. His space-tourist costume impressed everyone (especially after they saw the huge blue thing hanging out of the bottom of his shorts). He and the Marilyn look-alike in the picture took two of the prizes.
We, sadly enough, were shunted to the list of also-rans. Lesson learned. Next time we go big or just go as ourselves.
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