More candy, less work-y (Image Credit: Thinkstock)
Let’s be honest – for adults, the theory of Halloween is way more fun than the actual effort it takes to participate. Now I love Halloween as much as the next girl. What’s not to love? Candy, dress-up, booze... candy. The problem with Halloween is the effort required for costumes. I can barely muster the effort in my everyday life to find something besides yoga pants and a sweatshirt to put on. I have little desire to concoct some elaborate costume to wear for five hours, one night of the year.
Sure, I still want to go to the Halloween party. I still want you to feed me creepy eyeball appetizers. I intend on hovering around the candy bowl and why yes, I’d love a martini with weird smoke billowing out of it. But no, no I don’t want to spend hours leading up to this night with a glue-gun and six yards of tulle fashioning some homemade wearable web.
Buy a spandex catstuit? You can take your camel-toe and sell it to somebody else. Devil ears? I’d rather wear my own. An hour of intense makeup application? Sounds like a lot of trouble to take off when I pass out from all those dry-ice martinis.
Alas, I need a Halloween costume that requires nothing more than getting dressed.
For years I’ve been trying to convince my friends that our next party should be a pajama party. I have no intention of sleeping over, but I do have every intention of being comfortable. Luckily, at Halloween anything goes, and for me that means going in pajamas. What am I? Sleeping Beauty? Uh, sure. A tired mom? Yep. A lazy costume-wearer? Now we’re talking.
I have an apron that sits folded (and by folded, I mean stuffed in a ball) in the corner of my pantry. It gets as much wear as my 4-inch heels. As in, none. However, at Halloween an apron makes the perfect costume. Tie that baby around my waist, throw some flour on my face, and let me at some of those Monster Meatballs (to eat, not to bake. I’m not baking shit for your party).
Superhero sweatshirts, socks, shirt, what-have-you.
Sure, they might revoke my pass to Comic-Con if I show up wearing a Wonder Woman sweatshirt and call it a costume ,but news flash: a Halloween party in my neighbor’s basement is no Comic-Con and I am no Wonder Woman. A little Prime shipping from Amazon or a quick trip into my neighborhood box retailer, and I am ready to save the day.
I am hardly going to steal the show as I come dressed in my black yoga pants, black and white striped shirt, and black knit cap, but then again I didn’t want to dress up as anything. Dressed as a burglar or dressed for lunch on a Saturday? Who’s to say? (P.S. Kudos to burglars for being so on-point with the good looking yet comfortable attire).
Photo credit: Sarah Sherman Samuel sarahshermansamuel.com