BOO!

Part VI in the Blog-A-Week Series

Yesterday was Halloween. I wore two costumes. At school, I was a "sexy countess" (the label said so) complete with a "scarlett o'hara" wig. It was a strange little costume because it's not really anything specific. Just a vague 18th century-type thing. But it was a sort of theme with the other young faculty in my department. Then last night at a friend's party, I was a Playboy Bunny. I chose that costume because it was flattering, but more importantly, it was a costume that came in my size. So many of the other interesting costumes I saw came only in larger sizes.

The bunny costume was successful. It was not without problems, though. My ears got caught on all hanging decorations, and I spent the party tugging down the back of the skirt for propriety's sake. As costumes go, it wasn't too uncomfortable. Except for the shoes which were excruciating. I could barely walk this morning. Today I am wearing big, fat, clunky, flat shoes. Ahhhh...

So I started thinking about how we choose our costumes as adults and how we chose them as kids. It's kinda fascinating. When we're kids, we pick characters we like and identify with. Like Luke Skywalker or Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Or something more general like an army guy or a surgeon. Halloween gives us a chance--even when we're adults--to play pretend for a day. Dress up really fancy or, in contrast, go the ol' hobo route. Take all of Boba Fett's badass street cred without actually becoming a bounty hunter yourself.

Some people pick theme costumes they can wear with a significant other or friend. I remember P and S coming as doctor and accident victim one year. C and K always choose a theme for the two of them. Last night, K was a dragon and C was the warrior princess destined to slay him. A married couple came to the party as party games: he was Operation (complete with removable sticky body parts--entre nous, when I got home I realized his "water on the knee" was stuck to the bottom of my shoe) and she was Twister (her hat was the spinner). Or you could choose based on a group idea. When I lived in Queens, every year, my group of friends said it was doing Star Wars as a theme. I was going to be Boba Fett, but it never actually happened. *sigh*

As we grow up, getting a costume is really more of an inconvenience than anything else. Like, "Oh damn, I have to decide what to be by Friday." It's not like when you're a kid and you see a movie in June and you just KNOW that you're going to be so-and-so in four months. And if you're in a couple, you have to wonder if your significant other is going to be annoyed if you're something that stands alone ("So what am I supposed to be, honey?"). And if you're single, are you going to pick something that might get you someone's digits?

I admit, I kinda copped out this year. A Bunny? Really?  As I said, it was the only costume I liked and fit into. I wasn't dying to be a bunny. But there wasn't anything else that piqued my interest either. I miss the days when I was a kid and picking a Halloween costume meant something. It was a statement of ideals, of what was important to you. Did you want to be the hero Luke (even though he was a little whiny)? Or did you want to go as the badass scoundrel Han? Did you want to be a heroic firefighter, or a rock out in a toga? Princess or pumpkin? 

Is it just because I'm grown up that I don't care so much about what I am anymore? Or is it that I'm missing some heroes in my life? I don't know, but I do have hope that it won't always be an inconvenience. Next year, maybe someone--real or imagined--will emerge and I'll want to be them for Halloween for next year.

If not, there's always McLovin'.

~Hero