It is with a good deal of resignation that I must admit Jim and I are of that group of parents who require their kids to come up with their own Halloween costumes. Believe me, I’m not boasting; I’m just preparing you for the coming photographs.
I blame Mom and Dad for starting the tradition. Only once can I recall having a store-bought costume. Not to give away my age, but I come from that period in history when every grocery store, drugstore, and big-box warehouse did NOT carry completely assembled, non-flamable, non-face-covering Halloween costumes with reflective safety strips, beginning on August 30th … of the previous year. There is a picture of me when I’m two years old, with one of those old die-cut plastic masks with flocked velvet hair, eye cut outs and a little slit in the mouth for oxygen, with the mask pushed up on my head, cramming candy in my mouth. That was the last time Mom and Dad bought me a costume because apparently, that same night, I began having night terrors of skeletons and spiders, and other creepy things I’d seen, which continued randomly for two years.
When I was older, Mom, who by her own cheerful admission was “pattern dyslexic,” sewed all three of the older kids their costumes. Amazingly, nobody had to ask what we were. Mirroring reality, Sendo was a clown, I was a queen, and Sally was a witch (Yes, Sally, I'm smiling as I type that). While Sally and I have frequently traded places, Sendo has always been the clown.
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Obviously, a Queen!
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Later, we had to come up with our own ideas, so once I went as a fairy. At least that’s what I wanted to be, but since my costume consisted of raiding Aunt Nancy’s hand-me-down (very lovely and wholly inappropriate), see-through and silky peignoirs – worn over jeans and a long-sleeve, turtleneck shirt (this was Seattle in October, after all) -- I imagine I confused everyone.
Once I was a Spanish Senorita, courtesy of my dad’s Catholic mother’s black veil she wore to Mass, Aunt Nancy’s bohemian skirt and off-the shoulder peasant blouse (off the shoulder because I was 12 and had nothing in my upper region to hold it up), a cheap Japanese folding fan from Uwajimaya, and a tube of garish red Wet ‘N Wild lipstick. Looking at those pictures now, I’m hard-pressed to say if I looked more like a Lady of the Night, or simply a resident of Greenwich Village, but by then the neighbors must have learned not to ask.
So when we prepared for Jack’s first Halloween, of course we were going to make his costume. As he was 11 months old and barely walking, let alone talking, Jim picked his costume: Elvis.
We stayed up until midnight the night before Halloween, hot gluing gold and silver sequins onto the white felt cape that accompanied the white felt bell bottoms with red felt flares. Jim drew in sideburns on his cheeks, and Voila! Our little Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love.
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"Ooo Ooo Ooo! I can feel my temperature risin'!"
Halloween 2001
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My personal favorite was Jack’s second Halloween costume, when I came up with the brilliant idea that he could be a Toasted Marshmallow. A yard of white felt, squares of yellow and red felt for flames, a can of black spray paint to show the blackened “toasted” parts of the marshmallow, and Voila! “A burnt-out cigarette butt!” one slightly inebriated Door Answerer guessed, as she slurped from her martini glass. So he didn’t look anything like a marshmallow. Probably the goggles from his Playskool drill set (he insisted on wearing) didn’t help clear anything up. And when did Halloween become a drinking holiday?
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Cigarette Butt or Toasted Marshmallow?
Halloween 2002
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The next year, when Woody had arrived and was 10 months old, Jim, Jack and Woody all went as a troupe of Elvi. Most people guessed this one correctly, although we did get one guess that Jim was Evil Knievil.
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Woody/Elvis
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Elvi or Evil Knievil?
Halloween 2003
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The next year Aunt Amanda pitched in her drawing and painting skills and Jack went as a Krispy Kreme donut maker (it was right after Krispy Kreme opened in Wichita) and Woody went as a donut. That year was fun because Woody figured out pretty fast that there was candy to be had, and so would gallop from one house to the next, but being accident-prone, he tripped often, tumbled, and propelled by the round donut around his belly, rolled head over heels before regaining his footing and continued on, undaunted. But the “horn” on his forehead got a little larger each time.
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The gun in Woody's hand is a nice touch.
Halloween 2004
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In the next few years, Jack was a Bowling Pin to Woody’s Bowling Ball, a Stick of TNT to Woody’s Old-Fashioned Acme Bomb (and Betsy was the Detonator), an Army Soldier, Cowboy, Building Contractor and Pirate. Woody, for his part, was a Human Eyeball (bloodshot, no less), a Ghost, a Piranha, and the Headless Horseman. Betsy was Bo Peep, the Tooth Fairy, a Bumble Bee, and a Princess. Lucy has been a Whoopee Cushion (she was a gassy baby), and Plankton to Jim’s Mr. Krabs.
Again, let me explain I am telling you this here because you may not have recognized these in the photos without my help.
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Woody, the Human Eyeball
Halloween 2007
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Betsy as Bo Peep
Halloween 2007
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Woody the Ghost, Jack the Cowboy, Grace, an Angel, Hannah the Puppy, Lincoln the Ghost, Betsy, the Toothfairy
Halloween 2009
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Lucy the Whoopee Cushion
Halloween 2010
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Betsy the Queen Bee
Halloween 2010
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Woody the Piranha
Halloween 2010
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Jack the Starving Pirate
Halloween 2011
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Jim as Mr. Krabs and Lucy as Plankton
Halloween 2011
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After 11 years of making costumes, I believe I have isolated the problematic formula which evades so many would be do-it-yourselfers (like those who browse Pinterest), and it is this: Great Idea + Minimal, Yet Completely Overestimated Skill = Confusing Mess.
Nevertheless, this past weekend, we once again found ourselves the day of the Halloween Party, frantically gluing, sewing, cutting, trying on, re-cutting, regluing, sticking hot-glue-gun-burnt-fingers into mouths, ripping out seams, re-sewing, super-gluing, stapling and finally, tying bits and pieces of cardboard, felt, and fleece together with twine. It was insane, and I hope the kids remember it for the rest of their lives.
This year, Jack wanted to be a Vending Machine, Woody -- a Scarecrow, Betsy -- the Little Mermaid, and Jim and Lucy went as the Father-Daughter Tag-Team Wrestling Champions, complete with jeweled Championship belts.
If you ask me why we do this each year, even though we secretly swear up and down to ourselves we will NEVER do it again, I will tell you it’s because of that One Time: I was a kid and my older brother, Sendo, came up with the idea to be a Rubix Cube. That was when the Rubix Cube was brand-new and all the rage. I remember his intense concentration as he cut out squares of construction paper and glued them into place on all the sides of a perfectly square old box. Since this was Sendo, I’m sure each colored square was perfectly measured and glued to the box in its precise, predetermined location, decided upon with no fewer calculations than went into placing the monoliths at Stonehenge. He spent hours assembling it. I remember the delighted laughter from the parents when they saw him while they were doing their time, trudging through the cold, wet Seattle streets that evening, trailing children shrieking for candy from one house to another; and the surprised admiration from the parents left at home to man the doors.
Trailing my own kids now, the thrill for me is in knowing the kids are ecstatic about their costumes, still at that magnificent age when they are certain their parents are creative geniuses, positive they themselves are they envy of the neighborhood kids, regardless of whether or not they are recognizable to anyone other than themselves. And that's just the way it should be.
I want more pictures! The vending machine and the father daughter wrestling team, for sure!
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