Long, long ago, in a town far, far away, your friendly neighborhood blogger was a little girl. And a cute one at that!
One of my first memories of Halloween was about age 3 or 4 when I dressed in a cute princess costume and collected candy from the neighbors. Way back when… the costumes were much simpler. My princess costume was a blue plastic “dress”, complete with a full hard-plastic mask with eye and nose holes and a small mouth hole (which I cut my tongue on because it was waaaay too tempting to poke my tongue through). The mask rested completely over my face and was attached with an elastic cord that was too tight. Always… too tight or too loose. The masks were not good. You couldn’t see thru it, when you exhaled it fogged up the inside and made your face sticky, and sounded like a big heavy-breathing monster was following you. So why not send the little kiddies out in the dark, further obstruct their vision and breathing. Oh… and let’s dress them in some kindling and send them to the home of strangers where they can stumble onto porches filled with open flames to beg for candy. So the question here is really … did our parents realize this or did they just not care? Best not to poke that sleeping monster now…
On a side note, I find it
mildly greatly disturbing that in order to find this example, I had to Google “vintage” Halloween mask. Vintage… seriously?
I was led around the neighborhood where I collected a lot of candy. (told you I was cute). Mrs. Stevenson (not her real name…. I’m protecting her identity. No, it’s not that I can’t remember her name… ok, yes it is) was known for her flavored popcorn balls. Because she was friends with my grandparents, she always gave me two popcorn balls AND a full-sized candy bar. See, this narcissistic behavior is not all my fault. Ok, yes it is.
There was nothing better than going out with pre-teen friends trying to be “big” kids, braving the haunted house. There were never enough street lights to take care of all those shadows. For someone with a very vivid imagination…. It was both terrifying and thrilling to run around our small town on the most terrifying night ever.
As I grew older, my Halloween fun morphed from candy collecting to other, less savory behavior. Because our town’s teenagers were known for their “fun” pranks, our high school clubs sold Halloween Insurance to local businesses to raise money –genius idea, really. For minimal cashola, any shenanigans that occurred to a business’ storefront on All Hallows Eve was promptly cleaned up early the next day by very tired and grumpy band geeks. So clearly it was our duty to use soap, shaving cream, and toilet paper and toss eggs and raw biscuits (don’t ask) all in the name of fundraising. Gotta support the team!
Consequently I have very fond memories of Halloween which I have tried to pass on to my girls… sans the vandalism. (Turns out I did NOT do a good job with one daughter in that department, more on that in a later post). The Hubs does not share my love of zombie, werewolf, or vampire nor does he appreciate the pure magic of tossing an egg at someone so this job is all mine. And I take the Halloween learnin’ very seriously.
We carve very cool pumpkins at my house – no boring jack-o-lantern faces will do. We make caramel apples, roast pumpkin seeds and I’ve decorated my garage in black trash bags for a dozen young basketball girls. The light on the garage motor is still green to this day.
I have purchased more fake spider webs, mums and pumpkins than you can imagine. But I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything. So fast forward to 2011.
Yesterday, I had the rare occurrence of having all three girls with me AND I had some free time. If you have teens, you understand just how rare this is. Stinker had been asking for her Halloween costume for like a year now, so I stopped into one of those temporary Halloween stores. You know the ones that take over the old Blockbuster for the month of October. As I’m pulling into the store, I’m telling the girlies how fun Halloween was and the appropriate way to toss a raw biscuit. (They only rolled their eyes a little).
So I was quite shocked when I walked into the store. Halloween is definitely different. Maybe it was because I’m feeling
old nostalgic that I hadn’t notice this transformation before. The fun, non-flame retardant costumes of the olden days (shut up, I’m not THAT old… ok, yes I am) have been replaced by freak-me-out scary costumes, life-size figures that talk and move, and hussy girl costumes. Exactly how do you make a fairy princess costume for a 6 year old horribly inappropriate? …. Ah yes. Fish net stockings.
Now don’t get me wrong. This gal loves her some zombies and scary stuff…. But these were even a bit much for me. There was an entire isle – like a long isle - of severed hands. How many severed hands does one need?
Yes. As if clowns weren't creep enough... now there are zombie clown babies! Kramer would be so freaked right now!!!
He's blurry because he was moving.... probably trying to kill me in the store!
Yes. Creepy zombie baby is eating his foot.
Ok. Aside from the fact that someone would actually buy the exorcist doll.... where would one store this gal in the off-season? Seriously... would she sit in the corner of the garage? eeeekkkk!!!!
Send me comments on here or on the book of Face about your favorite Halloween memories. What disturbs you about the new fangled Halloween? You know I like attention… send me comments dang it! Which reminds me.... go and like my Facebook page. (or I'll sic creepy foot eatin' zombie baby on you!)