My entire closet is full of costumes. As is yours.
We all don what we want to wear for the day, event, occasion, trying to present a certain image or look. However, my closet actually could serve to clothe an entire band of gypsies or Elizabethan-era persons. In the past friends knew I had just about whatever you needed and it could have been the shirt I wore the previous week. Kimonos, fake furs, sequins, dinner gloves, hats, flowing robes, did I say, “hats?” Some theater department could raid my stash looking for a chapeaux from just about any age.
Of course my penchant for costumes began very early, when my mother sewed for us kids and I learned to sew. She wouldn’t let us wear jeans to school, as most of you know by now. We were “nerds,” but stand-out nerds. I made the latest fashions as best I could and wore them. I continually thank the Lord that no one had cell phones with cameras when I was maturing! The only girl at the prom who didn’t wear a long dress. I decided that the stunning handkerchief thing was attractive. So misguided…
I digress. I do not recall a single Halloween costume from my youth. We all had to go as ghosts, hoboes, or cowgirls or boys. I might have been a hobo as that would have required make-up! Nobody purchased a costume in my family since the goal wasn’t the look, just the haul. And no one photographed us. Maybe my baby sister had a “store bought” costume, but surely no photograph.
With that in mind, I needs must retire to my cloakroom and choose a perfect disguise, I mean “attire” for the day.