Before Hot Topic was in every mall. Before we ever walked into our first Tim Burton movie, Beetlejuice, and walked out changed. Before Pottery Barn Kids figured out how to make store bought costumes look like homemade costumes and then charge sixty bucks a pop to look like your mom sewed you the quaintest, cutest corn dog costume.
There was the three of us.
I don't even think this picture was taken on Halloween. Drug store witch masks were probably just a grandma gift. Enough to get us posing for the cameras, but really just a fraction of what the next weeks (and years) would hold, which rarely involved plastic masks, but always involved some hodge-podge of our mom's makeup, both our parents' old wardrobes, and our stash of garage sale costume clothes that got reinvented every year.
Pirate mustaches from your mom's stubby red pencil black Maybelline eyeliner.
Ghostly complexions from baby powder that rubs off before you ring the first doorbell.
Middle school bunnies and belly dancers and hippies.
High school zombies and werewolves and mummies.
I love that Halloween has become so popular again. But it's a double-edge sword. Now you can buy almost decoration, almost any costume. I do it, too.
But wouldn't it be cool to have some kid ring your doorbell wearing her mom's castoff silk nightgown and a tinfoil crown and a crazy mess of red lipstick, no princess-out-of-a-box but a princess all the same?
That, or maybe go completely the other direction.
A plastic drug store witch... now that might just be wickedly charming.
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