Send me an invitation to a fancy dress party and I’ll be there with sequins in my hair and feathers around my neck. The 20s is a great era for costume –– glittery and theatrical. But really, I’ll dress for any decade, even them brash old 80s. Once, my friend Antonella and I, who both grew up singing Papa don’t preach into a hair brush, raided the Value Village for acid wash denim and white leather pumps. We even wore lace socks with said pumps as we strutted down Spadina to the sky dome where Madonna was in concert. This was our chance to dress the way we could have only dreamed of at age-eight when the album True Blue hit the radio. We looked so great, or at least we thought we did. And that’s the thing about a costume. You get to step out of yourself. You get to be Madonna.