It will come as no surprise to you, dear reader, that like most things in my life, I leave the buying of the teenage daughter's Halloween costume to the last minute. Jumby was most helpful in this venture and spent a good hour or two propped up in the bed of our Hudson Valley hotel room perusing Care Bear costumes. Because, yes, a Care Bear is what Our Daughter wants to be. He even warned me, good-naturedly "You'd better do this online, because it'll be bitch next week." But I paid no heed. Too busy breathing in the misty autumn air & waxing lyrical about apples.
Unfortunately all the Care Bear costumes are from size 12Months to 4T. Or there is the "teen" version, the grumpy (or rather, sultry) bear, in a mini skirt and platforms. Of course! That makes total sense!
Last night, after much gentle prodding, it has to be said, on behalf of my daughter, we ventured out into the night, to Aahs on Sunset, a veritable goldmine of Halloween costumes and all things spooky. We were greeted by dry ice, scary smoke, ominous haunting music, ghosts and ghouls and gravestones, and the largest selection of hookers this side of Vegas. The entire store, at 7 o'clock on a Wednesday night was full of big-boobed, long-nailed, blonde-headed lovelies, all searching, as we were, for the perfect outfit for Friday night. Would it be sexy Marie Antoinette, with wig & miniskirt (I said, "Minks, this is perfect, you can dress the dogs up as sheep") or sexy Cheerleader in red & black plastic, bear midriff & thigh boots, or even sexy Buxom Barmaid with faux Medieval wench extras (corset, thigh-length stockings)?
Minks meandered over to the infant section and stared longingly at the cute little bear costumes (age 1-2), the ferocious green dragon (age 3T), and even the Curious George furry monkey suit ("His head isn't as cute as it should be," she said). A man next to us was waiting patiently as his girlfriend sorted through the choices making various disapproving sounds. "You know, Halloween is the one occasion when every girl can be slutty, and there's nothing wrong with that," said the man, and then suddenly noticed Minky's horrified expression. She turned to me, with one hand up to her face and said "Um.....ewwwwww." He in turn colored a rather lovely shade of magenta and quickly slipped into the wig aisle. I stood by the fetish shoes and became increasingly more depressed, despondent even, toying with the idea of buying myself a Sarah Palin mask and maybe a McCain one for Jumby. There is a certain melancholy that comes over you when it's October and the leaves are changing, and the apples are falling from the trees, and everyone else is snuggling up by the fire drinking warm apple cider and you're stuck on Sunset Boulevard with a bunch of faux-goth twenty three year olds.
Ready to kill myself, we left & my spirits were lifted somewhat by the parking attendant. "You drive good, miss" he said, as I nimbly backed the Prius out and cleverly dodged two bims in a white Porsche. I don't know whether it was the driving compliment (who'd d'ya think you are - Sterling Moss?) or the fact that he didn't call me "Mam." "I hate it when you're mad at me" says Minks. "Honey, I promise I'm not mad at you. I'm just ready to throw myself under a bus after spending half an hour in that store. It's so trashy," I said. Big fat hypocritical statement of Life. Minks kindly doesn't point this out but for the last few years, I've been trotting old the same tired crack ho costume - plastic zippered minskirt, pink shiney platform boots, black wig - every Halloween and thinking it HILARIOUS. What on earth was I thinking??
Thank God my child has more sense than me.
Where on earth do people find suitable costumes for thirteen year old girls? (Quick poll of friends shows that other eighth grade girls are going as: Dorothy, A Pumpkin Witch, A Hobo, A Pregnant Nun (?), A Spice Girl). Annoyingly, the LA Times has a piece on this here.
Best answer: The cashier at Ralphs this morning --
"Wrap yourself in aluminum foil and say you're leftovers."