Thursday, October 14, 2004
Dilemma
Halloween is only a few weeks away, and for those of us who never got past the adolescent phase, this means a lot of pressure to come up with an amazing costume. This is not an easy thing, because once you’re older than, say, nine, it’s no longer okay just to let your mom slap you into a plastic smock with pictures of Batman on it and some neon reflective tape and set you loose upon the streets to pillage for candy and egg gentle elderly people. No, for "adults" costumes have to be somehow high concept (not to mention slutty, for all you gals out there), either appealing to our pop culture nostalgia (TV’s Maude costume), invoking current events (Dick Cheney costume with lifelike lesbian daughter prop), or deconstructing the whole idea of Halloween (child-sized Batman smock worn ironically). The fact of the matter is, childlike, spontaneous Halloween fun takes lots and lots of planning.
In past years I do feel as though I have always risen to the challenge. My first year of law school, I wowed audiences by portraying a tough but sensitive Attorney General Janet Reno, even though my attempts to draft a friend as Little Elian were unsuccessful. The next year, I upped the ante with both a fantastic Hillary Clinton (who was totally not wearing the same suit Janet Reno wore) and a magical Harry Potter (which I actually wore to Evidence class, forgetting momentarily that law school is the place where fun goes to die). The following year I channeled Elton John circa 1978 (the loss of the enormous pink sunglasses I wore for that venture remains one of the saddest unsolved mysteries in my life) and Blair from The Facts of Life, in conjunction with my friend Liz, who won the role of Tootie by virtue of owning roller skates. And last year, well, I topped it all with a dual role as Screech from Saved by the Bell and Burt Reynolds circa 1982. I really believe you can measure Halloween success by how much clothing you buy that you will never wear again and how much damage you do to your hair, and last year was a winner on both counts.
So what new joys with this Halloween bring? I’m honestly not sure yet. You can’t force inspiration; you just suck down ten or twelve pixie sticks and a case of Red Bull and wait for it to happen.
Halloween is only a few weeks away, and for those of us who never got past the adolescent phase, this means a lot of pressure to come up with an amazing costume. This is not an easy thing, because once you’re older than, say, nine, it’s no longer okay just to let your mom slap you into a plastic smock with pictures of Batman on it and some neon reflective tape and set you loose upon the streets to pillage for candy and egg gentle elderly people. No, for "adults" costumes have to be somehow high concept (not to mention slutty, for all you gals out there), either appealing to our pop culture nostalgia (TV’s Maude costume), invoking current events (Dick Cheney costume with lifelike lesbian daughter prop), or deconstructing the whole idea of Halloween (child-sized Batman smock worn ironically). The fact of the matter is, childlike, spontaneous Halloween fun takes lots and lots of planning.
In past years I do feel as though I have always risen to the challenge. My first year of law school, I wowed audiences by portraying a tough but sensitive Attorney General Janet Reno, even though my attempts to draft a friend as Little Elian were unsuccessful. The next year, I upped the ante with both a fantastic Hillary Clinton (who was totally not wearing the same suit Janet Reno wore) and a magical Harry Potter (which I actually wore to Evidence class, forgetting momentarily that law school is the place where fun goes to die). The following year I channeled Elton John circa 1978 (the loss of the enormous pink sunglasses I wore for that venture remains one of the saddest unsolved mysteries in my life) and Blair from The Facts of Life, in conjunction with my friend Liz, who won the role of Tootie by virtue of owning roller skates. And last year, well, I topped it all with a dual role as Screech from Saved by the Bell and Burt Reynolds circa 1982. I really believe you can measure Halloween success by how much clothing you buy that you will never wear again and how much damage you do to your hair, and last year was a winner on both counts.
So what new joys with this Halloween bring? I’m honestly not sure yet. You can’t force inspiration; you just suck down ten or twelve pixie sticks and a case of Red Bull and wait for it to happen.
