Happy Halloween! As we close out the month and Horrordailies, I thought I’d revisit a few of my more memorable costumes from over the years:
Cinderella, ages 6/7. Remember those plastic masks and highly flammable polyester costumes? Yep, one of those. Mine was a lot like this one, only my crown was gold.
Raggedy Ann, age 8. Same kind of deal.
A ghost, age 9. The ol’ sheet with holes cut out for the eyes. Worst hat-head EVER. Looking back on it, I should have cut a million holes into it like Charlie Brown.
Nowadays, Halloween is very different. Parental competition has entered the picture the way it has with everything from Little League to science fairs, so you don’t see too many kids in prefab costumes or even masks unless it’s a superhero costume that Mom sewed herself. I suppose that’s a good thing: At least you know no kid is going to go up in flames if they lean back against an old-school radiator or another kid goes near them with a sparkler.
Halloween is very different for adults these days, too. Heaven forbid a woman isn’t a “sexy” version of something–sexy nurse, sexy cop, sexy witch, sexy nun, sexy yacht captain, sexy bull’s backside.
I was a little more creative back in the day. For instance, in 1985, I went as Madonna in her Desperately Seeking Susan era: Black crop-top lace tank, black bomber jacket, black floppy bow in my hair, black leggings, a bazillion of those black rubber bracelets, and the words “Boy Toy” written across my stomach in black eyeliner.
Oops, that was kind of sexy.
Another year I went as the Clinton Health Plan: Black top and jeans, a cardboard tombstone on my chest that said “H.R. 3600, Health Security Act” (the name of the bill), one of the famous Hillary headbands, and red duct tape everywhere. I’ve since seen the light, but it was a fun costume. Some people needed an explanation, but this being Washington, D.C., many didn’t. All the people who worked on the Hill knew what I was right away. Definitely nothing sexy about that.
These days, I don’t dress up. It’s too much trouble so I just walk around with my fangs out. Maybe next year I’ll fly around as a bat.
And now, the final candy, the one you’ve all been waiting for and may or may not despise with the searing heat of 1,000 suns: Candy corn!
Come on, did you really expect anything different? Love ’em or hate ’em, they’re Halloween in candy form.
And thus concludes this year’s Horrordailies. See you in December, for Holidailies. Be good, kids!
zenzalei 