It’s 1.37am and with a flick of my wrist, the last tiny face has been iced onto an array of gingerbread pumpkins. I sigh happily, inviting Chris over to look at my handiwork. I begin to wish I had red food colouring powder to give these creatures rosy cheeks or perhaps to add a golden…
At what age are you supposed to be nonchalant about Halloween? At 26 it seems like I should be over it, perhaps carving a pumpkin or maybe wearing a plum lipstick on the 31st or loading up the woeful selection of horror films on Netflix. But I can’t shake my love of Halloween. It looks…