How To
The Non-Expert: Last-Minute Halloween Costumes
Experts answer what they know. The Non-Expert answers anything. This week, in the spirit of the holiday, ROSECRANS BALDWIN puts together a few last-minute costumes for adults who plan to combine liquor with their masks and candy.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- First Scary Movies (Of Recent Note)
- Beloved Children's Books (Of Recent Note)
- Superpowers, Revealed (Of Recent Note)
Also by Rosecrans Baldwin
» SEE MORE
- The Non-Expert: Term Paper (June 3, 2005)
- The Non-Expert: 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover (May 27, 2005)
- The Non-Expert: Gypsy Cabs (May 20, 2005)
Also in How To
» SEE MORE
SOCKING STUFFERS
If a Bird Can’t Fly It Walks
Sanguine and adhesive, our bumper sticker makes a swell gift for anyone who’s swearing off excuses in the new year.» ORDER NOW
Have a question? Need some advice? Ignored by everyone else? Send us your questions via email. The Non-Expert handles all subjects and is updated on Fridays, and is written by a member of The Morning News staff.
* * *
Question: Hey! I don’t have a costume for Halloween this year. Last year I went as Freddie Kruger, but this year I have no ideas and I’m running out of time. My girlfriend’s roommates are having a party on Sunday, so recommendations including as few special props/clothes preferred. Thanks!!—Matt T.
Answer: When I was little, having a good costume didn’t take much work. My dad’s trenchcoat, a ratty flannel shirt, and some shoe polish rubbed into my cheeks passed for a credible hobo. But it also helped that I didn’t really care—Halloween, for children, is about candy, and how to get more of it. (After a long night’s patrol of my neighborhood, I would raid the leftover candy that my parents had been handing out, and though I did feel a bit sheepish lording over two dozen Snickers, I still felt entitled in keeping them from my sister.)
Costumes become even less important when you’re a teenager, when you’re either dressing like it’s Halloween every day, or making fun of the kids who do. In fact, it’s not until you’re an adult that costumes suddenly become significant. No one wants to be the witch at the office party—too cliché, never mind indicative. Adult Halloween parties are about judging your peers, drinking alcohol, and girls feeling empowered to dress like hooker cheerleader nurses. Here are a few ideas to get you going.
Little Billy: Trick or—
You: Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!
Little Billy: Santa? But it’s Hallo—
You: Why, I’ll be snowed! If it’s not little Billy from next door! But little Billy, why haven’t I received your Christmas list yet?
Little Billy: Because it’s Halloween, Santa.
You: Well, it’s the early bird that gets the worm, little Billy, and unfortunately Santa has already run out of toys this year!
Little Billy: Santa…what…
You: I sure am sorry Billy. Here, why don’t you have one of Rudolph’s apples? Or how about a napkin to clean up the mess you just made?
Little Billy’s Mother: You know I can sue you for this, right?
You: Ho ho ho!
Other convincing bits: Carry a magnifying glass. If you don’t have one, a normal glass will do, but filled with gin or morphine. Hire a short tubby friend to follow you around the party, reminding everyone how smart you are; consider doing this for non-holidays too.
Friend: What the hell are you doing?
You: Guess what I am.
Friend: A creep?
You: I’m deoxyribonucleic acid!
Friend: What?
You: I’m your jeans!
Her: Matt!
Roommate 1: Something smells.
Roommate 2: Yeah—like a hobo?
Her: But baby, where’s your costume?
You: This is my costume.
Begin jumping around the kitchen: pretend to do dishes, to clean the windows, to be sensitive.
Roommate 1: What is he doing?
Her: Matt?
You: Hey honey, remember Alex? I mean, the way you’re always talking about him—
Roommate 2: Alex your ex-boyfriend?
You: Look at me, I’m Alex! I’m totally cleaning up the dishes! I’m so sensitive!
Roommate 1: Alex never smelled like that.
You: I’m attending to your needs!
Her: Have you been drinking?
Grab the roses and get down on one knee. Swap the groveling look for one of worship.
You: Now who am I? Come on, guess!
Roommate 1: He isn’t.
Roommate 2: Holy crap.
You: You remember Cameron, don’t you?
Her: I can’t believe this.
You: Come on, marry me! I’m Cameron! Hop in my Audi and we’ll drive down to the beachhouse my parents bought me! Who cares if I’m a total loser? I’m rich!
Roommates: Do you want us to leave?
The big finale: Toss the flowers aside and slowly start unzipping your fly.
Roommates: Oh God.
Her: Please don’t.
You: And everyone remembers Wyatt, right? How big Wyatt was? Well check me out—I’m Wyatt, and I’m so fricking—
Question: Hey! I don’t have a costume for Halloween this year. Last year I went as Freddie Kruger, but this year I have no ideas and I’m running out of time. My girlfriend’s roommates are having a party on Sunday, so recommendations including as few special props/clothes preferred. Thanks!!—Matt T.
Answer: When I was little, having a good costume didn’t take much work. My dad’s trenchcoat, a ratty flannel shirt, and some shoe polish rubbed into my cheeks passed for a credible hobo. But it also helped that I didn’t really care—Halloween, for children, is about candy, and how to get more of it. (After a long night’s patrol of my neighborhood, I would raid the leftover candy that my parents had been handing out, and though I did feel a bit sheepish lording over two dozen Snickers, I still felt entitled in keeping them from my sister.)
Costumes become even less important when you’re a teenager, when you’re either dressing like it’s Halloween every day, or making fun of the kids who do. In fact, it’s not until you’re an adult that costumes suddenly become significant. No one wants to be the witch at the office party—too cliché, never mind indicative. Adult Halloween parties are about judging your peers, drinking alcohol, and girls feeling empowered to dress like hooker cheerleader nurses. Here are a few ideas to get you going.
Santa Claus
Your local costume shop is already busy with the desperate and the open-walleted paying top-dollar for rubber Bush faces or full vampire get-ups, but nobody wants poor St. Nick! The clerks will probably throw in the beard for free. Test out the look’s authenticity by wearing it to welcome neighborhood trick-or-treaters.Little Billy: Trick or—
You: Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!
Little Billy: Santa? But it’s Hallo—
You: Why, I’ll be snowed! If it’s not little Billy from next door! But little Billy, why haven’t I received your Christmas list yet?
Little Billy: Because it’s Halloween, Santa.
You: Well, it’s the early bird that gets the worm, little Billy, and unfortunately Santa has already run out of toys this year!
Little Billy: Santa…what…
You: I sure am sorry Billy. Here, why don’t you have one of Rudolph’s apples? Or how about a napkin to clean up the mess you just made?
Little Billy’s Mother: You know I can sue you for this, right?
You: Ho ho ho!
Sherlock Holmes
Wear a baseball cap backwards. Now throw another on top of it, facing forwards. Instant deerstalker cap!Other convincing bits: Carry a magnifying glass. If you don’t have one, a normal glass will do, but filled with gin or morphine. Hire a short tubby friend to follow you around the party, reminding everyone how smart you are; consider doing this for non-holidays too.
Your Own Best Friend
Wear as many pairs of your best friend’s blue jeans as possible, and nothing else.Friend: What the hell are you doing?
You: Guess what I am.
Friend: A creep?
You: I’m deoxyribonucleic acid!
Friend: What?
You: I’m your jeans!
The Ghost of Boyfriends Past
Hopefully your girlfriend’s party will feature alcohol, but pack your own just in case, and have quite a bit before you arrive. Don’t worry about dressing up; in fact, pick out some clothes you don’t mind getting dirty. What’s important is that you’re wasted by the time you find your girlfriend making punch with her roommates in the kitchen. Try not to slur too much (it detracts from the costume). Also, bring a dozen roses.Her: Matt!
Roommate 1: Something smells.
Roommate 2: Yeah—like a hobo?
Her: But baby, where’s your costume?
You: This is my costume.
Begin jumping around the kitchen: pretend to do dishes, to clean the windows, to be sensitive.
Roommate 1: What is he doing?
Her: Matt?
You: Hey honey, remember Alex? I mean, the way you’re always talking about him—
Roommate 2: Alex your ex-boyfriend?
You: Look at me, I’m Alex! I’m totally cleaning up the dishes! I’m so sensitive!
Roommate 1: Alex never smelled like that.
You: I’m attending to your needs!
Her: Have you been drinking?
Grab the roses and get down on one knee. Swap the groveling look for one of worship.
You: Now who am I? Come on, guess!
Roommate 1: He isn’t.
Roommate 2: Holy crap.
You: You remember Cameron, don’t you?
Her: I can’t believe this.
You: Come on, marry me! I’m Cameron! Hop in my Audi and we’ll drive down to the beachhouse my parents bought me! Who cares if I’m a total loser? I’m rich!
Roommates: Do you want us to leave?
The big finale: Toss the flowers aside and slowly start unzipping your fly.
Roommates: Oh God.
Her: Please don’t.
You: And everyone remembers Wyatt, right? How big Wyatt was? Well check me out—I’m Wyatt, and I’m so fricking—
—Published October 29, 2004
