The annual celebration is essentially a huge amalgamation of different cultures’ and different religions’ beliefs, superstitions, celebrations, and ceremonies. Its origins mainly sit within Celtic and Christian beliefs and tradition, but nowadays it’s just an excuse for fun for all ages. If you’re a youngster (or American), it involves walking round your neighbours’ houses, and asking for sweets. But if you’re an adult then it’s all about dressing up, getting loaded, and having a good time.

Because this year’s Halloween falls on a difficult day for updates (today) I am forced to either present the Halloween event, after the Halloween special (which is pointless), or put out the Halloween special 1 week after Halloween (equally pointless)! Either one of those, or just refuse to do a Halloween special at all, and after all your tireless support and fandom, there’s no way I could do that to you. Fortunately, there is a fourth option, it involves a little bending of the London Me Up rules of service, but what the hell.

For this special week, one time only, I give you the very first (I don’t plan to make a habit out of it) archival event. It’s a collection of past Halloween, fancy dress, and bonfire (thrown in as it’s around the same time) parties.

The two parties I have for you are a ‘Bad Taste’ costume party in Liverpool, and a Halloween/Fireworks joint venture from 2007.

Bad Taste

The ambition when attending a Bad Taste party, if you’re not familiar, is to cause the absolute highest level of offence to the other guests as is humanly possible without actually pissing in the mouth of the Queen whilst shitting on the floor of the W.I. annual conference. The party was being held by old Leeds Me Up staple Ms Kassy Toal, so Gazz and myself were in attendance. Our ideas for costumes were pretty minimal due to recently having moved in to a new flat under the control of what must be the most purely sadistic landlord since Norman Bates. What with towering hidden fees and the like, we were selling our own clothes for food never mind buying new ones for a costume.

My original idea (which I still love) was to borrow someone’s Liverpool FC shirt, bust up my face a bit with a touch of make-up and go as a Liverpool fan from Hillsborough. With the party being in Liverpool, and the tragedy’s 20th Anniversary not but a week before, this was sure to win the ‘causing the most offence’ award. In retrospect it may also have won me the ‘causing the most death’ award too. Perhaps thankfully I didn’t actually know anyone who had a Liverpool shirt. The cost of one running into £40+, we’re back to the original problem. I came to realise, with the combination of some gymwear I’d recently purchased, and just a baseball cap, I could become Karen Matthews’ boyfriend (currently serving an 8 year sentence for the kidnapping of Shannon Matthews and other charges)

Whilst at the party, it turned out one of Kassy’s friends, Laura, had arrived as Karen Matthews herself (or she just turned up in a dressing gown and no make up)! Cue an evening of beating up Gazz with various blunt implements. Words ‘Best’, ‘Party’, and ‘Ever’ spring to mind.

Halloween/Bonfire Night

This was most certainly the best costume I’ve ever made. The beauty was the utter simplicity. Cost: £2. Time to construct: 30 minutes. Time Lasted: 16 hours. Grading with other guests: 10/10.

Ingredients: Borrowed white zip up full body suit inc. hood, 4 rolls of white toilet paper, 1 roll of Sellotape. = Mummy. The thing just keeps on giving throughout the night too. For best results, really put the work in and wrap 4 or 5 layers of the stuff around each limb, that way by the time you get to the party, there’ll already be a good stream of the stuff ripped and hanging off you, adding to the effect. If possible, try and get a friend to help and wrap up your whole face, making a trio of slits for seeing and drinking. Just don’t ask about going to the toilet.

The anonymity makes a mysterious character so other guests can enjoy figuring out who you actually are. Plus, if you by accident get out of your mind drunk and throw up into a plant pot which turns out to be someone’s pet, the next day, it wasn’t you, it was ‘The Mummy’ (just remember to leave the party before the bog roll comes off your face).

The face-covered costume is of course not without its enemies, the Lee Harvey Oswald to its John F Kennedy of costume parties if you will, is the one drunken fool who gets perturbed by the faceless mask getting all the attention. With no one thinking to congratulate this dick for putting on a black T-shirt, he plots to ruin your game and pulls the mask off. Luckily you’ve got 4+ layers of impenetrable toilet paper around your basket and you’re feeling pretty confident you could walk away from a plane crash unharmed (a plane crash with a baseball bat). He’s just grasping at air, pulling off straggly little shreds. Before he has time to do any proper damage he’s been escorted from the premises, his friends kicking him in the bollocks from the shame he’s brought upon them, leaving you to reap the benefits of ‘winning’ (even though he was pulled off you) a fight with a maniac.

With the costume now looking impossibly cooler thanks to it’s ‘war’ wounds, added to the previously mentioned mystery, it doesn’t matter just how ugly you are, with your face covered, it’s on. You’ve got your pick of the ladies! Just remember to pick up your clothes (it gets darn hot under 4 layers of toilet roll even in November) before you exit. You don’t want to be doing the walk of shame in the middle of tourist tube Sunday in tourist but dirty brown toilet roll.

Trust me.