Halloween Costumes, Pt. II Tuesday, Oct 14 2008 

Halloween and Halloween costumes and Holidays , , thewritingspider 11:24 am

     I really love dressing up for Halloween. I like it more now than when I was a kid and my mom made us go as stupid stuff like hobos* and scarecrows. Our neighbor had a box of really nice handmade cloth costumes her kids had outgrown. My sister and I got a lot of mileage out of those and went as a dog, a bunny, and a clown.** 

     I have also gone as a

     A gypsy – many skirts, many necklaces. I thought gypsies were jewelry saleswomen for a loooong time.

     A punk rocker – complete with spiky pink hair

     Bobby soxer – including my school uniform shirt

     Cher – I wore my mom’s long brown wig and my grandmother’s purple paisley leisure suit. I didn’t look like Cher, except that I had the gestures down like the head swing and the bent elbows and wrists

     Little Red Riding Hood – This was awesome. We went to the zoo for their Halloween party and a wolf walked the length of his pen beside me, his head hung low and eyes watching me

     Cat – sort of boring. It was leftover from my run as one of the Siamese cats from our school talent show.

     Morticia Addams – with Husband as Gomez

     My favorite costume, I think – and I could be wrong because I don’t remember them all – has to be last year’s turn as Elastigirl/Mrs. Incredible from Disney’s animated “The Incredibles.” I put the whole thing together myself with bits and pieces from the consignment store and my own closet. It helps that I’m sort of shaped like Elastigirl and I had the hair, too.

     This year, I don’t know if we’ll be dressing up. We won’t be having a party this year (sorry guys, I have a little get-together called My 10-Year College Class Reunion to go to the weekend before, which is when we would have had it).

*For the record my sister was the most adorable hobo on the planet. However, at the time, I didn’t realize that my sister was technically dressed up as a dirty homeless man who smelled of whiskey and beans.

** What is is about my sister dressing up as characters who are, typically, effing scary? Hobo? Clown? She grew up and went as Kid Rock one year… which was actually amazing. She did the hair and the clothes. It’s amazing what a little hairdo and a good gesture can do to transform someone.

 

Halloween Costumes, Pt. I Wednesday, Oct 1 2008 

Halloween costumes and writing , , , , thewritingspider 12:28 am

     When I was a wee child, my dad was the chef/gardener/tailor of the house. He’s a jack-of-all-trades, my dad, and one year he decided my sister K and I were going to be bugs for Halloween. In my house growing up, store-bought costumes were for sissies. At our house, you made your costume and you made something creative, bygod. My father is, if you have never met him, endlessly self-deprecating, incredibly smart, and the most creative person I think I know. He’s like MacGuyver only he’s my dad, and he was a big part of the costumery.

     Armed with his Singer sewing machine (my mom used to sew when I was very very wee), several yards of thin canvas, and a couple cans of spray paint, he fashioned two bug costumes. My sister K’s was a bright yellow caterpillar with black stripes. She had little deelie-bobbers for antenna on her head, and her costume even had a bunch of little caterpillar-y legs down the side. It was adorable. It is widely acknowledged that K was an adorable child. I, on the other hand, had an unfortunate awkward phase that started in preschool and ended when I was about 25.

    Dad made me a spider suit. Well…not like a Spiderman spider suit. Nothing so sleek and lithe. I was the Ginormous Spider that Ate Manhattan, DC, and most of Poughkeepsie. I’ll try to do this costume justice in my description, but nothing I write here will help your mind’s eye see the awesome red orb of spiderosity that was me, Halloween circa 1987.

     The body of the was like a hockey puck with a space in the middle for my head and lower half, and four overlylong legs splayed out from the body. (The real problem with this costume was the stuffing. There was too much. Even Dad admitted that later, but what can you do?) There were sleeves that covered my real arms but by lifting my arms I could engage the other four legs strung together with monofilament fishing line – strong but invisible so that when I waved them, you might have clutched your children close and whispered, “Sweet baby Jesus, that is one big-ass spider!”

     I also had deelie bobbers and since my legs were sticking out and thus part of my overall look, I wore red tights and over them, my shiny burgundy running shorts because God knows it’s more embarrassing if they can see your knickers. I wore my favorite pale blue Kangaroos, the ones with the little pocket on the side. Of course, this was years before I got contacts so I was also sporting my large Sally Jesse purple glasses.

     The effect could not have been complete without my mother’s final touch. She sold Mary Kay at the time and in an effort to use things we had on hand, she added food coloring to MK’s signature masque – a Halloween costume that’s good for your skin, too! K’s was pretty yellow, but somehow mine only got to be a Pepto shade of pink instead of nice deep red to match my deep red spider costume.

     Off we went, me, K, and my mother, into the dusk, as Dad standing watch at the front door and manning the candy bowl. Just beyond our yard, I realized my left Kangaroo had come untied and I bent down to tie it.

    At least when I lost my balance – frankly, it was as if the planet Mars had sprouted legs and a head and fell to earth to go trickertreating and I wasn’t used to the shift in gravity - there was plenty of cushioning to break the fall. On my back, I rolled from side to side, trying to gather enough momentum to eventually roll all the way up and back on my feet. No luck, dear reader, and the best I could manage was to flail my various appendages – stuffed legs and fleshy limbs alike – vigorously to the amusement of my parental unit and sibling.

   They laughed and they laughed and they blew the house down, but Humpty Dumpty still couldn’t get off the sidewalk. My father, sealed behind the storm door of our Cape Cod, double in a silent fit of giggles. I finally blurted helplessly, “I cannot get up! Help!” And when my sister and mother finally righted this upturned and rotund arachnid, I had a few leaves stuck to my Mary Kay face masque. The horror.

     The rest of the evening was really fine, but then we realized that food coloring hardened on one’s skin in a face masque does not remove easily and I appeared to have been sunburned for a week.