YOU CAN’T ALL BE DOLLY FOR HALLOWEEN
NOTE: Natalie is currently in the second stage of grief: ANGER
August 25th, 2026…Not only was it the day an icon passed on, but it marked the day about a million closet divas, gay guys, and suburban mothers stood up and vowed to be the late Dolly Parton for Halloween. I’ll admit, even I had a moment (there’s no closet containing this diva) of googling wig shops near me. This, however, only lasted five minutes before I snapped out of my diva delusion and came to the cunty conclusion that WE CAN’T ALL BE DOLLY FOR HALLOWEEN.
The notion that anyone can be Dolly is a beautiful falsehood. I’m sorry, but if I see you stuffing balloons down your shirt, adopting a twang, and calling it a day…I’m calling it a crime. The fact of the matter is, some of you–most of you–simply cannot pull it off. The ones that can started rhinestoning their dresses and jumpsuits on the 24th. Closet Divas–you probably don’t have the killer rack. Suburban Mothers–you definitely do have the rack, but not the legs. Gay Guys–you’re gonna make it weird. Drag Queens–you get to be Dolly every other day of the year. Don’t oversaturate the market.
Here are some alternative costumes for your Hallowed Evening:
WITCH
-You probably have an old broom in your garage and your daughter definitely bought a face paint palette from TikTok Shop last week. Witches are a classic salute to iconic women who didn’t give a damn–very Dolly if you think about it.
Plus, some of you can just go out with your normal look (burn) (at the stake) (sorry, I’m lashing out).
PIRATE
-Chuck out the history book and ignore the blood-soaked and rape-filled history of pirating! You’ve got a scarf from your Millennial Optimism era, I know you do. Same goes for leather belts of all shapes and sizes. Much like a pirate loves to spread diseases, Dolly liked to spread joy and literacy?…I don’t have a pirate analogy quite worked out yet.
LANDLORD
There’s nothing scarier.
I rest my heaving bosom upon my case. If you’re not spreading Dolly magic and regularly pouring one out from those guitar-shaped syrup bottles she hocked toward the end…Maybe it’s time to wake up.
P.S. I don’t want to see any forward-facing corset Frank-N-Furters either.