It’s that wonderful time of year again—gorgeous fall weather, the glittery social season, decapitated bodies in the bathtub…
At this point I might as well just call this my annual ode to Halloween. Since we started throwing our parties a few years back, it feels like we’re at least able to give Halloween its due attention. (Because just carving a pumpkin and handing out candy doesn’t feel like a holiday as much as…I dunno, some kind of sad cooking show.)
We haven’t thrown a party since Chrappy Christmas, too—this being the Harribles’ year to host Kegtacular, and Scoops never returning from the Great White North to be the springtime Eff That Guy honoree. (We were going to make a Mounty piñata, too, dammit.) And things have been so busy lately I don’t feel like I’ve devoted appropriate attention to party planning. Certainly indicative of my insecurities that I’m convinced no one will attend on Saturday because I haven’t done the required begging. Hell, I haven’t even had a chance (or the energy) to write a blog. I feel pretty drained.
Fortunately, CCB is just a douchey T-shirt and a Hannah-administered haircut away from completing his “Situation” costume. (Or, as CCB likes to call himself, “The Scenario.”) The Harribles are busing out some 80s rapper outfits in honor of Mr. Harribles’ new nickname, Big Dizzy. (Hockey world trivia: Because in-line skates and ice skates call for distinct skating styles, roller hockey players on ice are prone to death spins.) The Deelios will be rocking some hardcore zombie costumes. And Krazy Kevin, who loves to honor his heroes on Halloween (having been Rick Flair last year and an 80s hair rocker the year before), is going for the gusto as Reg Dunlop.
But me, I’m still absent inspiration. I figured a few years ago when I purchased the banana costume (complete with “Hannah” Chiquita sticker by Biz941 art director Musca-WTF) that my Halloweens were set for life as Hannah Banana. But this year I feel like I’m missing an opportunity.
When I was a kid, the more elaborate the costume, the better for acting out my fantasies to be a pro football player (or a dead confederate soldier?). In college, Halloween’s a good excuse to go for broke (without paying too much) with a group costume—a la my teammates’ and my inspired Robert Palmer girls get-up, or our Scooby Doo and the Crew. (Who’s got two thumbs and played the dog? This girl.)
And though I once appreciated Halloween as an opportunity to tart it up, I’m pretty well over the whole Sexy Nurse/Sexy Devil/Sexy Nun/Sexy Pressure Washer theme. Twenty pounds ago I would’ve worn a silk robe over a sports bra to be a boxer, but now that I finally learned how to box, I lost the body for it.
Amy Winehouse crossed my mind (I could get drunk and fall down just to stay in character) (ugh, sorry, poor taste). But $30 for a wig is a bit much. I thought, in honor of the big story I did in our November issue, I could get a fedora and a trench coat to be an old-school reporter—but that’s lacking a little something. Or just now I’ve started considering being a Hanson brother or even a Mounty—costumes the hockey crowd is sure to love.
Maybe I’ve waited too long, or maybe it’s just Monday, but I’m not feeling it. This is the one day a year to try something else on for size, but it’s go clever or stay home, and whatever clever I have doesn’t tend to manifest itself visually. I dunno. I’ll figure something out, or it’s banana as always.
Not to be a contrived post-blog question-asker, but I am curious how other people pick their costumes—specific person or general “type”? Historic, fictional, wordplay or abstract? Any genius ideas floating around this year?