It’s time to party, Carnival has taken over town!
For the next two months you’ll have more chance of finding a shimmery pink wig or a 2-foot foam penis, than a box of Lego or a Barbie in the toyshops of Gran Canaria!
In Gran Canaria, carnival is a HUGE deal, it begins in February and continues weaving it’s merry way through the streets until March, everyone gets involved and preparations begin a year in advance.
Unfortunately the Lynch Dinesen household aren’t quite as well prepared… on the afternoon of the main parade or cabalgata, I am generally found running around the fancy dress shop with armfuls of fishnet tights, swords and coloured hairspray, whilst simultaneously removing fake boobs from Axels grasp!
I love carnival, which is surprising considering my carnival memories stem from the 70’s and my mothers homemade costumes.
Whilst my school friends skipped around kitted out as princesses and fairies, I was painted white all over, inserted into a cardboard box and miserably paraded through the streets of Swansea - I was an ice cube.
Another year saw me dressed as a large yellow bird and another as a sheep, need I go on?
I’m still not over it.
Homemade costumes, I apologise now…
And yet, I have taken to making costumes for my own family. I know they’ll hate me for it in the future, but I just can’t help it, I blame Martha Stewart!
We’ve already had a few disasters…
Most notably the year Oskar and his classmates were Smurfs and his tail went AWOL.
Conviently enough the tail went missing on the morning of the parade, after much frantic searching I called my neighbour for help. She didn’t have blue material, although she did have a J-cloth exactly the same colour she said! Hurrah!
I grabbed a freezer bag, stuffed it with loo roll, hastily wrapped the J-Cloth around it and sewed it onto Oskar’s bottom, sorted!
Unfortunately my harried sewing had to endure a five year old boy sitting on it and fiddling with it for twenty minutes, by the time he got up to perform his little dance the stitching had started to unravel.
I watched in horror as the J-cloth slowly unfurled with each hop and skip, eventually flopping right open until the freezer bag and bog roll dropped at his feet, and all that was left of his tail was a flap of J-cloth hanging forlornly from his arse.
I’ll never forget his crumpled little face picking that bag of bog roll up off the floor, a lone tear trickling down his face as he plodded over to me and said “Mama, my bum fell off.”
I’ll never learn, in fact I don’t really want to…
You can keep your Disney Store costumes, I’m going to plough on through again this year with my glue gun and jolly optimism, making fabulous (ahem) costumes for my family!
Because for me, nothing quite beats the sense of excitement during that first visit to the fabric shop with my children, as we root through the metres of sparkly fabric, reels of sequins and boxes of fake willies, squealing and giggling with delight.
So I shall apologise in advance to my children, for the embarrassment I am surely going to cause them over the next few months, but rest assured my darlings, Mama knows exactly how much of a tit you are going to feel! x