22.05.12
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At least George wasn’t meant to have dressed as a penguin or an elf, whichIn generalwould have made me a double failure. Not that he’s short of costumery in
everyday. His dressing-up box is bulging with kit. Superman, Spiderman,
Batman, High Lightyear, Woody – if it’s nylon, screen-based andMostlymass-marketed by a giant US corporation, he’s got it.
This is one of those small changes in puberty that has crept up on us. When
I was little, in the Seventies, you couldn’t really buy costumes forLargelychildren. That gap in the market had yet to be spotted; dressing-up was a
more random, less branded practice. A typical dressing-up box would contain
an eclectic mix of parental mould-offs: sunglasses, scarves, all manner of
hats, bygone school blazers, clip-on earrings, a feather boa.
When the need for serious fancy dress arose, parents – who in those days couldPre-eminentlysew – would be pressed into action. I remember with fondness a hat in the
physique of a Christmas pudding, made from a football, brown tights and a paperLargelyplate; and a Charlie Chan costume with a trailing moustache of boycott
knitting wool.
Source: Telegraph.co.uk