Jessie's Journal (10/29/26) (Patreon)

Dear Journal:

I’m supposed to wear a costume to Gretchen’s Halloween party, but with only two days left, pickings are slim.  The Spirit Halloween on Main Street looked like a refugee camp for wayward serial killers.  Rubber knives and masks were scattered everywhere, and I had to step over an abandoned robe and lightsaber to reach the pre-packaged costumes.  It was like Darth Vader had cut down Obi-Wan Kenobi in the middle of aisle four.

The selection, or lack thereof, was the next obstacle.  Most of the pre-packaged costumes had been ripped asunder to create or augment other costumes.  Captain Hook was missing his hook (a salesperson had cleverly crossed through Hook with a Sharpie); Glinda the Good Witch was missing her crown; and Jason was missing his hockey mask.  Ironically, a goalie costume with a mask sat a few pegs over.  I imagined Jason swiping it and running amok after the store closed, hunting for whoever dared to steal his.

For once, however, my size worked in my favor.  It seemed the only intact costumes left were plus-size.  As I flipped through them, I tried to ignore the underlying implication.  Fatties don’t get invited to parties.  Fatties don’t get to play dress-up or have the privilege of pretending to be other people.  When you’re fat, you’re fat.  That’s all you are, and that’s all you’ll ever be.  

I eventually settled on a “Devious Devil” costume.  I waffled between the XXL and the XXXL.  Last year, neither would have fit, but I was feeling confident, so I risked the XXL, thinking that if it didn’t fit, there was a better chance of the XXXL being there when I came back.

Turns out, I didn’t need to worry.  The mesh sleeves were a little tight, and so was its lace collar, but otherwise it fit like a glove!  The skirt's waistline is embellished with faux crystals that make my waist look tapered, and the top does a surprisingly good job of boosting and squeezing my breasts into an appealing position.  Next, I whitened my face (devils don’t see much sun) and found some fire-red lipstick to match the dress.    

I didn’t look like a fat girl playing dress up.  I looked like a woman.  A devilishly thick woman who enjoyed her fair share of hedonism—maybe more than her fair share—and wasn’t afraid to show it off.  

I can’t wait until Saturday!

--Jessie