This is Halloween
Halloween is hard. On a normal weekday, I stand in front of my closet for 10 minutes deciding what to wear. I want to look professional, comfortable and match clothes just enough so I look right, but not so much that I look like I’m wearing adult-sized Garanimals.
On Halloween, things get tricky (and treaty). I need a good costume, preferably handmade. My best costumes have been my own creations. One year, I went as “Convergence” by Jackson Pollock. I took a tan shirt and tan pants and splattered them with seven different colors of paint. The piece de resistance was the small gold placard I wore on my left foot: Convergence. Jackson Pollock. 1952. Albright-Knox Art Gallery.
Two years ago, I covered myself with gray paint samples from Lowes and went as “Fifty Shades of Gray.” It was the cheapest costume I’ve ever worn, and I got a million compliments.
One year, I created my own Fred Flintstone costume with orange and black felt. I cut a jagged piece of blue cloth to be a tie. Of course, at the time, I lived in Los Angeles and I could freely expose my knees without worrying about getting hypothermia.
Side note: I told a Fred Flintstone joke not too long ago to an audience of millennials. I was surprised that it didn’t go over well. It turns out most of the 20-somethings didn’t know who I was talking about. It’s been almost 20 years since the John Goodman movie, and more than 30 since it aired after school on a major network. I felt like an actual member of a Stone Age family.
But I digress, like I do. I have to find a costume that matches my body type. I have limited choices. Flintstone was my go-to guy. I can dress like Fred, Mr. Incredible or deliveryman Doug Heffernan from “King of Queens.”
One year, I did dress as Mama June from TV’s “Honey Boo Boo.” My friend Ryan and I bedazzled pink tutus and wore curly blonde wigs. In every picture that year, I made the Mama June face. It was this puckered expression with one eye partially closed. I look baked in every single photo.
I like costumes that capture the cultural zeitgeist, but I won’t go as a presidential candidate. I like funny costumes, not scary ones. Hillary’s white pantsuit would look particularly unflattering on me. Just think about the number of Troll dolls you’d have to scalp to make a Trump wig! It’s mind-boggling.
I wanted to dress as David S. Pumpkins, but the “adult pumpkin party suit” worn by Tom Hanks on “Saturday Night Live” last week has been sold out since Monday. I guess the trick was to order it online while the sketch was still on the air. Alas, to really make it work, you have to have two dancing skeleton sidekicks.
I’m running out of time. I have to have a costume by tonight. I’m going to raid the local Goodwill and try to come up with something. Have a happy and safe Halloween.