Halloween, a holiday that seemingly closes the window of fall comfort and opens the gaping barn door of winter and it’s never-ending holidays, has never been one of my favorite times of year. Trick-or-treating in my town sucked. My costumes sucked. It snowed (like a lot!) the one year that I really got dressed up and went to a bigger town for trick-or-treating. I gave up on that holiday at a pretty young age.
Then I got to college and was introduced to college Halloween. Slutty costumes? Movie characters that weren’t animated? Doing more than gathering skirts, scarves and bangly jewelry into a new iteration of a gypsy woman/witch? (regular gypsy, dead gypsy, regular witch, dead witch got me through at least 4 years). Then we don’t even trick-or-treat, we just drink? That last part was pretty much the only part that I could get my head around. I didn’t know people liked it so much. Anyway, adult Halloween was a whole different ball game that I still had no idea how to play. Freshman year I had braces, so everything about my life was weird anyway. I just went to a John Mayer concert with a top hat on or something. Sophomore year, I opted out entirely, indulging in maybe one terrible PSU area haunted house. Junior year, my boyfriend at the time was all about Halloween and having corresponding costumes, so I went all out and made him a Han Solo costume while I went as Princess Leia. Although, I totally forgot about the sexy thing and went as this Leia by accident and not the slave one:
Then the same ex-boyfriend refused to go as Peter Pan the following year so I could be a sexy Tinkerbell. As I mentioned in my previous post, he ended up going as Tinkerbell and I looked like this:
I was Peter Pan. Decidedly not sexy. Then I did some terrible old Power Rangers costumes, then I skipped it for a few more years. Then I hit a new low and went as… (it’s only funny if you know the suburbs of Pittsburgh) Upper Saint Clair — I wore a halo and a wrap on top — and Trent was Lower Burrel(lap) — he wore a regular shirt with burlap wrapped around his legs. After all these terrible experiences, I was finally ready to say I was done half-assing it and give up on Halloween altogether.
Then Trent wanted to have funny costumes this year. I told him to think of them and I would do whatever. Then he didn’t think of anything. I felt like a bad girlfriend, since he’s said how much he loves Halloween and costumes and all that, so I tried to encourage him to think of something. We had a brainstorming session. Nothing. Everything was either a) impossible or b) not very good. After a couple of these discussions, we hit upon the fact that there’s craft shit strewn all over the apartment and thus, a Halloween costume was born.
I would be a sexy ball of yarn and Trent would go as Knit of the Living Dead.
Pretty good right? I love yarn, Trent loves puns. I’m not going to bore you with all the details. It’s not that great of a project. I’ll just show you the final product:
Trent’s wearing numerous knit pieces refashioned into some kind of knit zombie. He was pretty pumped about the latex stuff for his face and his head wounds oozing yarn. That and his scary-ass knitting needle claws. They made me uncomfortable.
On me, I knit the headband at work one night, it’s pretty sweet and will see further use. The top is just a sweater sewn onto an old bra. The ball-of-yarn skirt is also pretty cool, but we couldn’t get a good shot of it, sorry for the shaking:
So that was pretty much it. We went to a roller skating party called Down and Derby and had some drinks with our friends, but we didn’t skate at all cause Trent’s hands were dangerous.
Anwyay, this year I got into the Halloween spirit full tilt. All in the week leading up to Halloween, I watched Beatlejuice and Hocus Pocus, made our costumes, went to Scarehouse (which was awesome), drank spiked cider and carved this pumpkin in the likeness of my boss, Ted Pappas:
So that’s all for my Halloween spirit 2011. It was a good year for festivities. This week, I’m getting busy and making some pants. Or maybe getting a jump on Christmas presents. I should pick, like, tonight.
Oh, and one more thing. Thanks to my girl Emily over at Dinner Is Served! I went down a dark Courtney Stodden rabbit hole again today. For Halloween, she and her creepy 50 something husband BOTH WENT AS HER. Only, to make matters worse, SHE WENT AS A “CHILD” VERSION OF HER 17 YEAR OLD SELF, according to her completely bizarre alliterative twitter feed.