Even Better Than Birthdays

Halloween is my favorite day of the year. Always has been, and probably always will be. I've mentioned before how the process/history of costuming oneself truly changed my perspective and allowed me to not only become more aware of my true self, but appreciate the true beauty and craftsmanship of clothing construction and the art of transformation.

"All Hallow's Eve," also referred to in the olden days as "Snap Apple Night" began in Europe hundreds of years ago, back when folks believed that on October 31, the living world and the world of the dead somehow overlapped one another, and it was quite dangerous to be out and about, especially at night, without some form of disguise to trick the evil spirits in to thinking you were actually one of them. Voila, the first Halloween costumes were born!

Halloween was not widely observed in America until the late 1800s, after a huge surge of Irish people came over (because of the potato famine) and brought along all the popular Halloween traditions, creating a newer, broader interest in the holiday.

Almost any adult who loves fashion can tell you how much they enjoyed playing dress up as a youngster; I know I'm no special example by saying that I fit right in to that childhood past-time. That said, it wasn't until my teen years were almost over that I took a new interest in Halloween, and used it to my full advantage to break out of a shy little shell I had constructed around myself.

In college, I had friends who worked in the costume shop at the school's theater department. I went to a fairly liberal-minded school where there was almost always some sort of eclectic costume party that happened every single weekend, not just Halloween. During the week, we'd sneak over to the building where the costumes were kept, use their keys to get in, and the whole supply of costumes became our personal walk-in closet. Imagine rows and hallways full of clothing from every conceivable time period, hats, accessories, shoes, even wigs. All ours for the taking (well, borrowing), and it didn't cost a cent.

Just for clarification, I'm talking about dressing authentically, not as a "sexy" version of something else, which seems so prevelant these days. If I was a pirate, I was a not a "sexy pirate." If I was Margot Tannenbeam, it was Margot and nothing more. If I was Pee-Wee Herman, I was Pee-Wee Herman. (Seriously. Can you imagine a "sexy" Pee-Wee Herman? I'm just going to leave that one alone.)

I soon realized that, at these costume parties, what gave me courage to get out on the dance floor and strike up conversations with strangers was most certainly not the booze, but the outfit I was wearing. Being in costume gave me courage and confidence. Talking to someone else about their costume was the perfect ice-breaker. Eventually I went to parties where I wasn't sure if I even knew anyone that was there, but it no longer mattered; having my costume as a buffer was all I needed. In time, that shell of shyness separated and broke apart, and soonafter I was happy and comfortable with myself dressed as me - a costume was no longer needed.

But don't get me wrong - I still go to costume parties whenever possible.