We celebrate Halloween big around here. It starts the week before and does not stop until November 1st. It commences with an adult only party that my friend, Kelsey, has hosted for years. The adults get creative, crazy and pretend like we are twenty-somethings for one evening a year. Lots of mischief and inappropriate behavior ensue.
The costume development process is always painful for us. We are procrastinators to the core and always end up driving around the day of the party for those crucial last minute items that no one will notice but us. This year I was on it. We were going to be Princess Buttercup and her Masked Boyfriend, Westley, from The Princess Bride. It was my childhood dream come true and I was totally going to pull off Robin Wright. I would be gorgeous and youthful in Buttercup’s red riding dress while being chased by a hot man in a mask. I ordered two cheap dresses that looked like I could make them work. Unfortunately, my youthful, gorgeous plan did not pan out. The first one made me look like a 40-something trying to pull off a slutty 20-something and the second made me look about 10 lbs heavier than I actually am. Totally bummed, but at a loss for another idea, I chose fat Buttercup and was just going to go with it. Fat is better than sluttly? Probably not according to Darren. Why would you want to be fat when you can be slutty? These are rhetorical questions.
It was the morning of the party and I shared with Darren that I was not happy with my costume. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he says like a husband that knows the happy wife quote. “Really? Will you be my Dalmatian if I am Cruella Deville?” Kelsey had the wig and the fabulous coat above and I knew that I could throw it all together with a dress I already had in my closet. As you can see he agreed without a fight and was willingly lead around by a leash for a good part of the night. There we were driving around last minute the day of the party to put together the costumes last minute as usual. He made his costume with a Sharpie, Dickie painter pants and a white under shirt. I busted out the sewing machine and sewed white felt ears to an all white baseball cap. And we cannot forget the leash and collar purchased at PetSmart. We danced the night away with our favorite people as Cruella and what I like to call my sexy man dog. Done and done.
Below is The Lord, The future Girl, My Sexy Man Dog, Me, the Flapper and the Cowboy.
Moving on to kid Halloween, as usual, my kids decided on costumes from all ends of the Universe. No matchy, matchy coordination in my family. Ella wanted to be scary and picked the Grim Reeper, which I could not even look at because it was so disturbing. She had glasses that made her eyes light up red from behind her black face hood. There is something about your first born baby portraying death and doom. I guess I should be thankful that she did not choose the slutty monster high get up from Walmart. Liam knew he wanted to be Thor for a couple of months so we stopped trimming his hair so he could be the long blonde haired god of thunder. He even let me add the “Thor braid.” Juliet was tormented by an idea until my sister, Mary Sheila, came up with this authentic flamenco dress that had been sitting in her closet for years once used by her first daughter. It was way too big, but we made it work with safety pins and suspenders. It’s twirlability called to her. They turned out looking adorable except for the Grim Reeper who was down right creepy and that was the point I guess.
I was grateful for November 1st. It meant I could rest and nurse my tired soul on All Souls Day with tea and a book while the children ate themselves silly diving into their laundry basket sized candy haul. We could put away the spider webs and grave stones and treat bags and express gratitude for another successful Halloween filled week that it takes me an additional week in which to recover. Now onto menu planning and Christmas shopping…
Share a link to your awesome Halloween costumes so I can start planning for next year’s bash. I really want to break our last minute pattern.