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a home + living guide for the post-college, pre-parenthood, quasi-adult generation

10.11.2001

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fright night  | 1 2 3

Yes, Halloween scares me. And itís not the ghosts or the witches or the haunted houses, or any of the other creepy lore concerning the mythical dark forces that come out to play each October 31st.  Nope, embarrassed as I am to reveal this fact, Iím just a weenie, suffering from that common affliction of costume phobia. Call me a Hallo-weenie, if you will.

The thing is, I love being dressed-up. I love it so much, in fact, that not just any ordinary costume will do.  No hippie chicks, sluts, angels, witches or devils for me, because, while these costumes may be easy-to-assemble and have indisputable sexy-cute potential, Iím too much of a creative snob to fall back on any of those standards. I donít need a costume. I need a great costume. Say that over and over in your head for long enough, and what do you get? A ten-foot-thick mental wall of costume- brainstorming block.

Getting dressed up for Halloween was so easy as a kid.  Girly child that I was,  my costume of choice was inevitably of the frou-frou fantasy-type, a steady succession of variations on the princess theme. Halloween gave me an excuse to parade around in public wearing all those pretty dresses that were too fancy for day-to-day use.  Of course, by the time I hit adolescence, I had pretty much exhausted the range of princess permutations, which actually worked out just fine, since every thirteen-year-old thinks theyíre too cool for dress-up, anyway.  I missed the trick-or-treating Ė stealing Milky Ways from my baby brotherís pillowcase full of loot just wasnít nearly as satisfying Ė but stressing over costumes? Good riddance to that headache.

Thanks to my friend Eileenís now-legendary annual Halloween party however (people fly in from out of state to attend this bash Ė no exaggeration), itís back to those days of anxiously racking my brain for a good costume come pumpkin season. Just a couple of weeks till the party now, and Iím still devoid of an idea. Time to stop the self-censoring, I say, and spill those ideas onto paper. No matter how silly. And Iím going to give you, lucky readers, a sneak peek into the inner workings of my mind, because you get to read it all. The brainstorming begins.  

that's right, there's more this way! 

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