Costumes are all kind of fun. I’m not one to go overboard, but I do think it’s fun, when appropriate, to don a costume for some well-mannered frivolity.
Years ago, I did a stint in a re-creation of a Colonial Dance Troupe, which was orchestrated by my elementary school chorus director. We dressed in full 18th century regalia (powdered wigs, hooped skirts) and danced The Minuet for a variety of audiences, including an appearance on the regional PBS station. I wish I could remember which early American First Lady I represented—my best guess would be Elizabeth Monroe (James Monroe), but don’t quote me on it.
As a child, I might have been obsessed with Halloween, judging by the enormous collection of drawings of ghosts, skeletons, and jack-o-lanterns which I attempted over the years. I don’t remember many details about Trick-or-Treating, except for the one year that we convinced our mom to buy us bona-fide Halloween costumes complete with face masks, instead of making something at home. I’m not sure why a princess needed a face mask, but wearing it, I quickly realized how uncomfortable the tiny elastic string was, how bad the cheap plastic smelled, and how impossible it was to see through the tiny slit eyes. After that experience, I agreed to skip the store bought costumes and create our own.
That is a sentiment I carried into my role as a parent. It was easy to devise homemade costumes when my kids were little. When Addie was a preschooler, she insisted that she wanted to be Winnie the Pooh for Halloween. No problem, I grabbed an oversized yellow shirt and red pants—voila, you’re Pooh Bear! That was well and good until 15 minutes before trick-or-treat time, when she suddenly changed her mind and pleaded to be a Tigger instead. I grabbed a roll of orange ribbon and taped stripes across the shirt—voila, you’re Tigger!
But, as the kids grew older, I wasn’t able to bedazzle them as easily. Many times, one of my daughters would mention an idea she was thinking for a costume, I would say, “don’t spend the money—we can make it!” Then, armed with my DIY instincts and my credit card, I proceeded to make, build, craft, or create something she could use. At least, I thought she could use it. Five rolls of duct tape later, she didn’t really want to use that costume. Thanks, mom, but that’s not really what I was going for. You see, the problem is that I often hear a challenge, then I take off solving the problem, when maybe I shouldn’t. I have learned over the years to resist my desire to show the world that I can figure it out myself. Well, really, I haven’t learned, but, give me props, cause I’m trying.
Another problem I discovered, as I pushed for homemade costumes, is the cost. More and more, I found that I was not saving money by making the costume at home. I was spending money on supplies, because, as it turns out, we have very few items lying around the house that can be repurposed into costumes.
One sore spot for us was Dorothy’s ruby red slippers. Foregoing the premade Dorothy costume, LeeAnn and I glued and sewed together a passable costume. We decided to purchase white tennis shoes and cover them in fine red glitter, as shown on a YouTube video.
I was convinced that the $28 shoes were not a bad investment, because, she could wear them as glitter shoes after the costume was over. Yeah, right. Those ruby red slippers appeared for one performance on Halloween night, then, back of the closet, baby. The complete Dorothy costume from Party City would have cost less than the shoes, and been way less hassle.
To step away from costumes for a minute, I seem to have had the same problem with overzealous planning when it came to birthday parties, too. That explains my reluctance to book birthday parties at event locations which charge a certain price per kid. Why should we pay that much? We can have the birthday party at home! Armed with my confidence that I could do a better job than the business ever could, I planned, prepared, and executed fabulous parties of all kinds for the kids—the backyard carnival, the jungle adventure, the camping fun, the almost sleepover, the spa experience. Sure, everybody had fun, but I was worked to the bone before the event, the house was a complete mess, cleanup took forever, and I spent WAY more money than the venue price would have been. Somehow, I worked myself crazy and paid more to do it. Needless to say, I learned to back off. I also learned that my kids formed lasting memories sometimes at home parties and sometimes at bowling allies, laser tags, parks, and restaurants. As for costumes, despite all my heroic costume production, my son Will’s favorite costume ever was the hooded ghoul which had a hidden tube that oozed fake blood down its face when he squeezed it. The costume that he bought at Walmart.
I do struggle agreeing to pay good money to buy something that I think I might be able to do myself. And I struggle about paying someone to do something that I think I might be able to do better. It ain’t just costumes and parties, yall. There are plenty of projects that I examine, tilt my head, and say, "you know, I think I can do that myself." When I tackle the project, how does it go? Sometimes there is a final cheer of success. Sometimes there is a defeated wail of despair.
I think I need to paraphrase the Serenity Prayer:
God grant me the determination to rely on experts for projects that I cannot or should not attempt;
The creativity and the where-with-all to accomplish those projects that I am capable of completing;
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Amen