Niamh Walsh’s Manifesto
Risqué fun at Halloween has been lost to wokeness
HALLOWEEN was always myself and my best friend’s secondfavourite time of the year. Preliminary outfit research began as early as September.
Then there would be ad hoc brainstorming sessions, thrashing out the merits and demerits of slutty Snow White or seriously sexy Little Red Riding Hood. Potentials were whittled down to a final five from which we chose our tiny-teeny Halloween attire.
One particular October 31, I transformed into the dottiest little Eskimo. It was a tan minidress with faux fur trimming on the hem, wrist and hood. I had my knee-high faux fur booties and the coup-de-grace of the costume was a velvet choc ice. I was an adorable Eskimo. So full of love that there was nary a nose left un-rubbed by the end of the night.
On the other hand, my best friend was a fish out of water.
See, my bestie has always had an incredible figure. A total gym bunny, she had the female six-pack thing. She, like me, is from the ‘if you’ve got it, hell yes, you flaunt it’ school of thought. So she opted for a skin-tight mermaid costume, complete with an actual fake fin.
But the venue we were Halloweening in had three floors. So, out of necessity, we had to walk the stairs. No bother for a sexy Eskimo in Ugg boots. But for a stiletto-wearing mermaid with a flip-flapping green sparkly giant fin, it wasn’t quite so scalable.
As her best friend, I perhaps should have come to her aid, as she literally had to sit down and lift herself up cheek by cheek up what was a fairly sizeable set of stairs,
But I had noses to rub. And besides, the sight of a mermaid clinging to a fake fin and trying to bum up a stairs backwards was too much fun to miss.
The memory struck me this week, because in the times we are living in now, I imagine I would be hauled up on charges of cultural appropriation and have my velvet choc ice impounded. The only thing scary about Halloween seems to be that you step out in fear of offending someone somewhere.
We used to go out of our way to be as outrageous and ostentatious as we could, in the spirit of fun that the Irish helped to bring to the world with the global festival. But that sense of mischievous delight in the risqué, the edgy desire to titillate, to stride boldly (and sexily) along the line, has been tempered in favour of a safer and duller night all round.
Don’t let greedy breeders rake it in
THE world’s oldest dog died this week at 31 years. Whether for 31 years, 31 weeks or 31 days, our four-legged faithful friends have an unparalleled capacity to leave an indelible print on our lives.
With eight weeks until Christmas, thousands of dogs are confined to cages to churn out pups to fatten the bank accounts of greedy breeders. There is no excuse nor reason to justify buying a pup when there are so, so, so many rescue dogs waiting for a family to call their own. While all dogs are great, rescue doggies truly, truly are the most wonderful pets. So please consider the impact your decisions can make.
Remote at the ready for Senator Shouty
I SELDOM watch talk shows on television – I reckon life’s too short to listen to the same talking heads blathering on.
But I made an exception last week when I tuned into RTÉ’s Upfront debate on decriminalising drugs, thinking it might throw some light on this thorny issue.
Two of the panellists, Ray Walley, clinical professor of general practice at UCD, and former Assistant Garda Commissioner Michael O’Sullivan did exactly that. These two experts, who each have four decades of experience in their fields, put forward fact-based, cogent, coherent and compelling arguments as to why we are sleepwalking into disaster if we decriminalise drugs.
But from the get-go, Senator Lynne Ruane shouted, hectored, and interrupted anyone who disagreed with her that decriminalising all drugs – not just cannabis – was the only way to go. She shouted questions rapid-fire at Mr O’Sullivan without giving him any chance to respond. It was so bad the seasoned officer was even seen rolling his eyes. A psychiatrist in the audience was trying to explain how decriminalisation was not going to work, and why, but Senator Shouty started to roar at him, leading to the rebuke: ‘You can shout over me all you like. It’s not going to change the facts.’
Fine Gael TD Kieran O’Donnell might as well have stayed at home because he made no meaningful contribution to the debate. To be fair, given that he was seated to the left of Ms Ruane, his eardrums must have been popping.
There is no point in talk shows bringing on guests whose sole contribution is just to increase the decibel levels in the studio. This is why the next time Senator Shouty pops up on my TV screen, I’m reaching for the remote control.
Beware the Storm when windows break
RONAN KEATING’s wife Storm threw a tantrum this week after a window shattered in her multi-windowed mansion.
Storm’s rage comes mere months after she chucked the mother of all hissy-fits claiming that a cleaning team apparently failed to mop up to her required standards.
Husband Ronan famously once warbled the prophetic words that: ‘Life is a rollercoaster, you just gotta ride it’.
His second wife obviously hasn’t listened to Ro’s early stuff.