Pulp Fiction Costume Ideas Novels & Stories

They finally gave in and decided to allow me to help on the condition that Trev was my… pimp, for lack of a better word. After a quick stop at a local costume store where I obtained the sluttiest skirt that I could find along with a bright red bra that was barely covered by a see-through black lace top and a pair of six-inch spiked bright red heels. The only downside to the sleek heels was having to unwrap my foot and without the tight bindings holding back the pain it free flowed through my leg again. However, the adrenaline kicked in and acted as nature's best painkiller, thankfully. I topped my outfit off with the clown red wig and applied makeup so thick that I knew it would take at leas

"There, now you look like a fierce corpse. Hehe." Rufus donned a black cloak and painted his nails black. "What are you supposed to be?" David asked, raising an eyebrow. Rufus, focused on his appearance, said, "What do you think?" "Ahh, I see. You’re going for the demon look! Perfect choice." David gave a thumbs-up, but Rufus just rolled his eyes and moved on. "Huh? Luca, you’re wearing white?" David said, confused.

He runs his hands through his sweat-drenched hair, pacing now and working himself up. "They were wearing tattered cloaks that looked like they got kicked out of a Halloween store. Moldy. Probably smelled like a basement that flooded in 1947." He gestures wildly at nothing. “Look at this!” He twisted, inspecting an imaginary dirt on his arms. “Those bitches look like they shopped in thrift stores all their lives...very poor fashion taste" He hissed. "Who knows how many dry-cleaning cycles it will take to get graveyard funk out of your soul? I’m gonna need a silkwood shower and probably soak myself in bleach. Twice.”

She chuckled. Punit was dressed like a princess. He was in a glittering, short, sleeveless dress, high heels, royal, white gloves, and a diamond-studded crown. His cheeks were a rosy blush and his lips were a nice, rich red. A fake diamond-studded necklace completed the picture. “I don’t think I can do this,” he fidgeted. “Don’t be ridiculous! This is awesome! You should do it!” “Yes,” encouraged the other two, “you should do it.”

The voice in my head told me. I fiercely wiped away my tears and looked at the pictures I took. After looking at them, I saw that each and every man committed some type of crime. They were sick people. This mafia should rot in hell. In the night, Simon gave me a dress and told me to put it on. It was black and reached my knees. It was tight and I liked it. I put on some make up because I remembered that I was a baiter. I slipped on some black strappy heels and went downstairs.

Sriste's pov I and pinku decided that we will go out in her country's attire...i wore a dark green colour shalwar kamiz and a silver jhumka...i let my hair open...put some maskara and pinkish lip gloss...yeah i was not a makeup freak....i prefered natural attire... When we came out from cafe...we were talking about our univarsity life and giggling...then we heard a bang sound....oh my God...some car hit someone...i saw him...oooowwwwooo.....he was like a greek god...

But as I hoped, the penny-ante grifter is propping up the bar, glass in hand, one arm operating like a pump as he knocks back cheap beer with a group of a dozen or so. The other arm is slung around the waist of a gruesome female, her eyes made up zombie-fashion. The remaining make-up job is way too pale for her face, except for the lipstick, which is black, matching the gelled spikes of hair radiating out from her head like some kind of poisoned halo. For some reason she thinks that elbow-length, black lace gloves make a good match with Doc Marten boots. And in a final salute to style, she chews gum, never actually closing her mouth to do so.

She whispered, “Mr. Crawford, I know you’re not fond of festivities, but could you at least check the bag? Liam chose a costume from his favorite movie, ‘Mary Poppins,’ just for you. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.” She handed me the bag, and I reluctantly took it. Liam’s face lit up as I accepted it. Retreating to my room, I inspected the simple costume: black pants, a grey dress shirt, a black undercoat, a red scarf, and a grey ivy cap. The quality wasn't top-notch, but it would do. As I changed into the costume, I looked at myself in the mirror. Surprisingly, I didn’t seem odd at all. In fact, I looked quite dashing, resembling a well-dressed man from the mid-1950s. I hop

Little Paula stated, They couldn't think of anything any more rather than dispatching to their various rooms and homes. ******* “It's morning already” I groaned and yanked off the duvet, stood up and took my bath as usual. Unlike other days, today's dressing is different. After rubbing my lotion cream on my body, I wore a black leather trouser, black leather singlet and jacket, black cap and a black war boot. I dressed like an assassin going to kill someone. This is gonna be my new dressing style. I don't want to look so accessible, instead I want to look dangerous.

Uniforms everywhere—maids, guards, even fancy coats that looked like they belonged to someone with way too much free time. “This is it,” I whispered. “Operation Don’t-Die begins now.” I ran my hands through the uniforms, searching for something useful. Finally, I spotted one—a dark guard’s outfit, complete with a heavy belt and boots. Perfect disguise. I yanked it off the hanger and started changing like my life depended on speed. My old torn clothes? Straight into a corner under some folded sheets. Goodbye, disaster outfit. When I looked at myself, I had to laugh. “Well damn,” I whispered. “Not bad, Cullen. You clean up nice.”