The Ultimate Halloween Catalog arrived in the newspaper today, resplendent with pictures of cheap-looking (yet expensive) costumes for all ages, which has me thinking: I have never been to a “proper” costume party.
And what is a proper costume party, you might ask? Well, it is one that is NOT associated with 1) Halloween, 2) the local Scottish societies, or 3) any pre-lenten, Carnival-like festivities. You know, one of those society parties in a stately home to which Henry Kissinger would go dressed as Little Bo Peep, Warren Buffet as Robin Hood, and Elton John as himself. Jessica Fletcher would be on the guest list, some crime would take place, and the police (plus that meddlesome Ms. Fletcher) would let everyone else leave after narrowing down the suspects to one of the seven Bo Peeps or five Robin Hoods in attendance.
Alas, I have only memories of the Halloween costumes I wore as a little tyke. Back then, a Halloween costume came in a box with a cellophane window showing its plastic mask with the rest of the costume (an imprinted, wrinkled rayon gown which tied up in the back like a hospital gown) folded up underneath. Not in order, I was a black cat once, Casper the Friendly Ghost twice, a skeleton twice, and Batman once (that costume was more sophisticated–it had a plastic cape). There were some homemade ones, too. I don’t want to write much about those (for heaven’s sake, an off-white 1970s plastic table cloth imprinted with a faux lattice pattern does not make for a good ghost, for starters). Halloween was as dead as a doornail for several years after the Tylenol poisonings in the early 1980s. I was jipped.
Adult Halloween parties amongst coworkers are big now, or so I’ve been told. Thank goodness I’ve never worked anywhere that does that! But what if . . . one must be prepared . . . what, if required, would I choose to be? Zorro? No, I’d have to shave down to a pencil thin mustache. Pirate? Well, where’s the costume there? King Richard? That’s just pompous.
Of course, there’s always guyliner, a fauxhawk, a left-handed guitar, and I’d be a Cher song away from . . . (You do know, do you not, that David Cook sort of resembles me and that Time of My Life sort of sounds like an old Cher song?)
DO had some pretty good Halloween parties, as I recall. One year I went as Bamm Bamm to Jenny King’s Pebbles. (Steve Mazza and ???–Dana Phillips? maybe? doubled with us, as Fred and Wilma, of course.)
Did you go to the NYC Opera production of Faust that played at LSW one year on Halloween night? Given the event and the occasion, I took the opportunity to go in black tie. It was a dark, rainy night. WVSU was playing Orson Welles “The War of the Worlds” on the radio as I drove to SU. The production of Faust was great. All told, just about a perfect Halloween.
For several years in a row, Rae and I would have people over to watch Sweeney Todd on Halloween.
I feel your pain on the Halloween costume thing. How dumb were those little smocks that went along with the plastic masks? Most of them had a picture of the character, or at least the name of the character, on the front. Like the real Casper the Friendly Ghost walks around with a picture of himself on his chest, with “Casper the Friendly Ghost” printed beneath it.
“Faust” was rather good. That was on Halloween night? Spooky! I think that was one of the times I looked like a zombie at an event (no costume needed) from studying for a math exam and got glowered at by Nora O.
Just occured to me: if (when) the rubber band on Casper’s mask broke, he’d need himself printed on his chest! Also, those masks weren’t very fun to wear–see and breathe, who needs to do that?
I failed to mention our school Christmas play costumes (I as a hora-dancing Lorenzo de Medici for the Christmas ‘Round the World + Hanukkah program–mustn’t leave that out).