I thought I was going to get out of it this year. I missed the Halloween dance up in Lansing because my parents were in town, and when announcements were made for our ward Halloween party this coming Tuesday, our activities chair made it clear that dressing up was preferable, but optional. I had heard rumors of a party on Friday to which half the ward had been invited, but since I was part of the other half I was making alternate plans to lounge around in my apartment in my pajamas, bake cookies, and watch a movie with two or three friends.
Then on Tuesday I received an invite to the Friday party first from my ride home from Institute, and then from my roommate. Of course I agreed to come, because I've been trying to be good and put myself out in the social scene a bit more than I'm generally comfortable with. And because there still Saturday for the pajama/movie/cookie-baking small-group, girls-only party. But what this means is that I actually have to find a costume now.
I don't know why I am so opposed to dressing up for Halloween. There was a time in life when I had fun with Halloween costumes. I liked to be creative, although my creativity wasn't always a spectacular success, and I liked imagining what I could do that no one else could. I don't know when that died, but I haven't liked dressing up at least since I started college, and probably much sooner. My brother Eric has retained his creative bent, from Mr. Peanut to a member of the Blue Man Group(although come to think of it, I haven't actually seen any of his costumes for the last eight years...). And I like to think that if I really wanted to I could be creative too. I just don't really want to. As of now I have precisely one good costume idea, and that one can only be used when the time is right, mostly because it requires a man (which I don't have, alas). I happen to bear a striking resemblance to a particular cartoon character, but unfortunately few people will recognize her without her co-star by her side. Until I find him, my idea will have to sit on the shelf.
The problem with dressing up for Halloween is that you call attention to yourself if you dress up, and you call attention to yourself if you don't. It's a lose-lose situation for someone who prefers not to call attention to herself. My solution in the past is to either avoid situations that call for costumes in the first place, or if that proves to be impossible, to dress as innocuously as I can. When my roommate and I threw a party at our house in Virginia, I bought myself some cute, cheap pajamas, pulled my hair into pigtails, and carried a stuffed bear. Then people started to ask what I was. I was't anything. I was just ready for bed. At last year's Halloween party I made the same mistake. I dressed entirely in black, tied my hair back with a black ribbon, painted my face powdery-white with dark circles around my eyes, and carried an ancient-looking candelabra my roommate happened to have lying around. Again, people asked me what I was, and I wondered why people seem to think I have to be anything? I was dressed up and that's all that counted.
I'm at a loss as to what to do tomorrow. I considered dressing up as a marathoner since I still have my number and finishing medal from the Ogden marathon, but my running clothes aren't exactly up to LDS Halloween party standards of modesty. I also thought about donning my $5 Old Navy Halloween t-shirt, painting a pumpkin or something on my face, and calling it good - that way I appear festive while both getting out of actually dressing up and managing to avoid the "what are you?" question. But that seems like a bit of a cop-out.
My qualifications are as follows. A Halloween costume must be...
a) nondescript (no one should be purposefully seeking me out just to see my amazing costume)
b) comfortable (I have to wear it for several hours)
c) warm (It's cld this week. I don't want to freeze at the party, in the car on the way to the party, or even on the walk between my apartment and the car or the car and the party)
d) unambiguous (people should know what I am by looking at me)
So if you have any suggestions, please pass them my way. I have just over 30 hours to figure this out, and I have an awful lot of other, far more important things to occupy my mind during those 30 hours.
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3 comments:
You should go as a fruit salad. I don't know how, but that would be funny.
Do what Kelsey did in the 4th grade and go as a tourist. Easy and comfortable. Surely there's a Goodwill somewhere nearby where you can find some plaid (for instance) pants, a Hawaiian shirt, funny hat or baseball cap and if you're really lucky an old camera to hang around your neck. Then stuff some travel brochures in your pocket (AAA) and Voila!
A costume does not have to be unambiguous, but if it's not going to be obvious what you are, your costume needs to be so outlandish that no one dare ask for fear of looking stupid. I would refer you to the costume I wore my freshman year, but you never actually got to see it.
And thank you for referring to me by name. It's nice to know that you're not ashamed to be related to me.
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