
I used to buy a wig for basically every Halloween costume, until I actually sat down and did the math one October — I’d spent something like $140 over three years on synthetic wigs that itched by hour two and ended up shoved in a drawer afterward. The year I finally leaned into my own…

My son wore a full plastic knight costume two Halloweens ago and by house number twelve he’d ripped the Velcro cape off, shoved the plastic chest plate into my hands, and was trick-or-treating in a t-shirt and a sword. I carried that chest plate for the rest of the night. That was the year I…

Last Halloween I spent forty minutes hot-gluing felt leaves onto a headband at 11pm the night before trunk-or-treat, because I’d put off picking a costume until my kids’ costumes were done and there was nothing left in my brain. I looked fine. I also spent the entire night adjusting a headband that kept sliding into…

Last year my friend Dana volunteered to “handle” our group costume, which turned out to mean a group chat with fourteen unanswered messages, one person who bought her piece three weeks early, and one who showed up in a completely different shade of green. We looked like four people who happened to be standing near…

Two years ago my sister’s family showed up to a neighborhood trick-or-treat night in a “matching” theme that looked great on paper. Her three-year-old lasted eleven minutes in the felt hat before it hit the sidewalk, and her husband spent the rest of the night carrying it in one hand and a melting juice box…

Three years ago I showed up to a Halloween party as a “sexy” something-or-other from a bag, and I was cold, itchy, and holding a plastic accessory for six hours. By 10 p.m. I’d taken half of it off. Since then I’ve had one rule: if I can’t sit down, eat pizza, and hug people…

Every year my friend group makes the same mistake: someone says “let’s all do a group costume” in late September, six people say yes, and by October 20th we’re down to three people in matching t-shirts and a leftover pile of foam. The trouble with Halloween costumes for a group of 5 is that five…

The first time I tried to put a costume on my cat, Biscuit, she went completely flat, like a pancake with opinions, and slid out of the pumpkin sweater in about four seconds. I got one blurry photo of her mid-escape. It’s still my favorite picture of her, but it taught me the main rule…

Last October I watched a very pregnant coworker spend an entire office party tugging at a store-bought costume that was clearly cut for someone with a flat stomach. The zipper wouldn’t close, the sleeves rode up, and by 8 p.m. she had changed into her own sweatshirt. That’s the trap with Halloween costumes for pregnant…