GAYS MILLS - I’m about a week early writing this but I’m kind of excited. It might be spurred on by my recent visit to a haunted house, but I’m pretty whipped up about Halloween.
Although Easter usually takes the cake for my favorite holiday, Halloween is right up in there. I’m not exactly sure though, that it is in fact a holiday? I suppose it depends on whom you ask.
Unfortunately, I haven’t dressed up in many years, although I have LOTS of great ideas.
When I first moved back and got with Chasca, he of course tried to swoon me by agreeing to everything I asked of him. So when I presented the idea that he dress up like Dog the Bounty Hunter and I could be is busty wife Beth, he was all for it. When it came to the big moment, he conveniently was far too tired and under-prepared to dress up and instead derailed me with promises of take-out Chinese food and horror movies.
The next year, I thought playing on our significant height difference would be a riot (for perspective, he’s 6’3” and I’m 5’3”). I suggested that he acquire a banana suit and me, a little gorilla suit. “The big banana and tiny monkey, it will be hilarious!” He of course agreed with much enthusiasm, until it got close enough that we should really be getting our costumes and he just outright refused, no bribery involved this year!
I gave up for awhile until last year, when we finally had our very own little person to dress up.
I agonized over what I would dress him as, fighting with the frugal (cheapskate) inside of me. I almost fell over when I saw the price tags on some of the infant costumes.
I came up with a simple, homemade solution though. I would dress them as twins. It all just happened to fall into place really. Someone had given Thatcher an AC/DC onesie and Chasca, an avid fan already had a nice worn in AC/DC shirt. I thought putting little bandanas on their heads would be a nice touch to really liken each other. However, the crowning jewel appeared with Romeo showed up ready to go to the little Halloween party hosted in Gays Mills. He hopped out of his mom’s car joyously offering fake mustaches to all who surrounded him. We stuck the little mustache on the sweet little five-month-old Thatcher and the rest is history.
Their costume of course was easily thrown together in about 10 minutes. I, however, worked hard all day at crafting my woodland fairy costume. I found the trusty machete and went into the greenhouse and commenced to chop down dried grape vines and gathered dead flowers and appealing plants that had already went to seed to craft an impressive crown and wings. Although I looked pretty dandy, my boys were still the clear winners. You just can’t really out do a baby with a mustache.
This year after some consideration, we will be dressing Thatcher up like a ‘buck buck’ or as most people know them, a chicken. The feathered friends are by far his favorite. If you have a chicken knick-knack in your house, my kid will spot it from a mile away, no problem. It will be a pretty easy costume to create, and in the theme of being thrifty, re-wearable as well. I found the fuzzy yellow pants at a garage sale for .25 cents and plan to invest in a white hooded sweatshirt; I’ll sew (or fabric glue) a comb and beak on the hood and wah-la, Thatcher the Buck Buck is born.
Homemade costumes aren’t anything new in my household. I have far less memories as a child with store-bought costumes than all of the homemade ones my mom assembled.
I have a long history of homemade costumes, even in my adult life, with the most memorable being a pirate and a man.
The man costume turned out hilarious, as my boyfriend at the time also dressed up, as my lady.
I found one of my dad’s largest shirts and stuffed it full giving myself the illusion of an excellent beer belly. I toted an oversized beer bottle (actually a coin bank) along with an enormous remote. I’m laughing to myself just recalling the ridiculousness of it.
I’ve had notable failures though with homemade costumes as well. Like the time I was an Oompa Loompa. I slathered my face with this awful orange paint and sprayed my hair green, styling it with a signature swoop.
Unfortunately for my costume, the Willy Wonka movie had just came out and all of the kids I handed candy out too thought I was some bizarre, creepy troll, not a friendly and mysterious Oompa Loompa.
To worsen the situation, I was easily defeated at the bar’s costume contest by scantily clad Strawberry Shortcake.
I don’t really understand why ladies choose to go as a less than conservative version of something during Halloween, like one I heard recently, “Sexy Where’s Waldo?” I am curious at how that will be pulled off, but the little old Midwestern grannie inside of me is screaming, “Oh dear, you really should wear some long pants and don’t forget your sweater, its always so cold on Halloween, you’ll catch your death out there.”