Is it Fancy Dress or is it a Costume Party?

I was asked this question by an American friend of the host of a Fancy Dress party I went to on the weekend. We agreed that it probably doesn't matter, and that the English should really have the right to decide what the correct term is. I then added that I thought they called it a Fancy Dress party, which went down like a pork terrine at a Bar Mitzvah.

While a Fancy Dress is usually something that an Australian lass wears to the races or her wedding, it is also pretty well universally understood that when someone is having a Fancy Dress party, they get to decide at least the theme to which all guests (or at least those with any balls) must comply. How stupid you want to make yourself look in the process is of course up to you.

The theme for this particular do was to go as "What you wanted to be when you were 6". I am sure that at that age I mainly wanted to be bigger (be careful what you wish for...), but as I didn't fancy wandering around all Saturday night in a Sumo Suit, I eschewed my dress loincloth and fell back on the other, quite true option - a fireman.

My old man was a firey, so not only did I really want to be one as a kid, but it was also quite easy for me to get me hands on the gear. Thus Saturday night saw me wandering around Rushcutters Bay dressed as a fireman, no doubt to the amusement of the few people whose paths I crossed as I looked for the apartment in question. The fact that I was wearing a substantial helmet and almost as substantial axe in a pouch attached to my equally substantial belt made me both self-conscious and rather anxious not to run into the local constabulary.


I eventually found the party, and was met with a fine assortment of costumes, along with the usual boring types who couldn't be arsed and made up some lame excuse about just coming from another party/Live Earth/the Starship Enterprise to cover for the fact that they didn't have a costume and therefore astonishingly felt left out.

A fun night was had by all, and I am able to attest to the old chestnut about men in uniform. No less than 2 members of the opposite sex (girls, that is) pointed out how much they liked the costume - on separate occasions. I thanked them and pointed out that their costumes were good too (whatever they were), at which point they felt obliged to clarify and add that the uniform really did look quite good. Again I thanked them, and obviously needing to do some remedial education for this bloke in the firey kit who wasn't quite getting it, pointed out that they REALLY liked the costume, and that if they weren't taken, they would have taken me home that night.

While this is only marginally better than your mum telling you what a handsome boy you are (the two girls in question being engaged and living with her boyfriend respectively and were therefore able to throw that shit out there with impunity), it doesn't do any harm to the self-esteem, even if it is purely based on wearing your old man's cast off uni.

So fellas, there you go, apparently the uniform really does work. Girls, I don't need to tell you that, clearly. But if you see a bloke wandering around Newtown in a slightly out of date firey's outfit (as he may or may not be doing each Saturday night from here on in), go easy on him...