As much as I love the Fall season, the sweater weather, apple cider, pumpkin-flavored everything, I loathe dressing up for Halloween. I am the least creative, laziest, and cheapest costume creator alive. The only costume I was ever proud of was my viking opera singer when I was 14 and waaaay too old to be trick-or-treating. Luckily, we had a German exchange student that year so I got away with it so I could show her all the best neighborhoods that give out the really good candy, and how to use a pillowcase instead of a plastic pumpkin so you could haul more.
These are for weaklings.
When I was a baby I made a pretty damn cute clown. My parents were also thrifty, like me, and made me wear that creepy polka-dotted jumper two, possibly three years in a row. This started the tradition of crappy costumes, including one 4-year stint during which I was a princess in the same cheap, blue dress-up gown every Halloween. Other notably lame years include: a teacher (I think I wore a vest and my mom's tote bag that said "Teachers Make a Difference" or something), a graduate (wearing my mom's graduation gown and honors sash from college), and a gypsy, which sounds cool but was poorly executed.
As I got older, naturally I fell prey to the Halloween Slut rule. This is not easy to pull off when you're a chunky lass and have to incorporate spanx into any outfit that shows off the real estate. In college I wore a homemade toga, which actually turned out pretty cool, and was easy to wash after cleaning up my friend's vomit. Then I went as a sexy mobster/mobster's wife, which I thought was bitchin' (I even made my own cigar out of a toilet paper role. Ask me how!), but then I discovered 3 other girls at the same party who were far sexier and looked a lot more like actual mobsters. Halloween fail.
Honestly, the most complicated costume I ever put together. Two hours before.
Last year was my last day off before working two weeks in a row (including weekends and longer hours), so all I really wanted to do was relax. I put on my sweet fake hospital scrubs, acted super self-absorbed, and walked around like I was about to fall over (channeling Meredith Grey). Of course, this was for my own benefit as I spent the day alone watching Tim Burton movies, Clue, and Rocky Horror (my Halloween tradition for years now). I was super excited to give out candy to the neighborhood kids (I never got to do this before). Only 3 kids showed up because as I found out later, they bus all the poor ghetto children to Beverly Hills and the like where they can score real candy. At first I was unhappy about this, but then I realized we used to do the same thing essentially. So I pretty much was just comfy in my scrubs, eating candy, and watching movies. Solid evening.
The resemblance was uncanny.
This year I have to work. I'm cool with that. We're allowed to dress up, but I can't really see my co-workers respecting me after showing up in Lady Gaga's raw meat ensemble. I just don't have the figure for bloody flank steak. And as of yet, I'm not aware of any parties to go to, which is stellar for me. I never think about costumes until a few hours before it's go time, and then I don't believe in spending money on something I'm going to wear once and be uncomfortable in. Not to mention I can never think of anything good (something cute but funny, original, but that people will get, oh and something I already have all the ingredients for).
Where would I hide my spanx? Also, meat is expensive and I don't waste food.
But if I were to dress up, I think I would go as a yuppie. My cute yoga pants (which I only bought because they're comfy and have never actually used for yoga), stretchy work-out tank, obnoxious purple yoga mat rolled up and slung over my shoulder, a starbucks cup, maybe a baby backpack worn on the front, and oversized sunglasses. Cute, comfortable, funny, and for the most part readily available. I'll probably spend the night just like last year, curled up with Johnny Depp, Dr. Frankenfurter, and mini-sized snickers. And as sad as that sounds to you, to me it sounds like Halloween perfection.
Look at them. Their flexibility. Their ability to afford yoga classes. Boo.