Some serious soul cleansing, Halloween style.

When I was a very little kid, I was left of center to say the least. It got me noticed. Fourth born, third girl in a busy household. I pretended to speak different languages, I made up stories and plays, my favorite toy was a Mr. Clean bottle named Jenkintown.


I was also feisty. I had no problem standing up for myself. I defended my every action. I was never wrong. I routinely kicked my sisters in the shins with heavy orthopedic shoes. 


My mom loved this about me.


But at some point my originality lost out to the powerful need to be socially accepted beyond the family. And my spunk morphed into a raging case of insecurity.


My mom didn't love this about me.


It was fourth grade when my friend had a Grease/birthday/Halloween party. That's bound to be a good time, right?


We carefully crafted an outfit, gluing the perfect felt poodle on a beautifully sewn skirt, then pairing it with a cardigan and my father's high school ring on a chain around my neck.


When I showed up to the party I was the only "before" Sandy. Oh, the Halloween horror! Everyone else had black stretch pants, big hair, heels and leather jackets like the end-of-the-movie transformed Sandy. The "You're the One That I Want" Sandy. I barely held back tears and refused to look at the bright side. Apple bobbing is infinitely easier with a ponytail! 


My mom took the drama personally. The 50's were her formative years, wholesome and well-groomed. Now her very own daughter yearned to tease every hair on her head and slut it up a bit. I still harbor guilt, though clearly Mtv was to blame.

Behold my mom in all her 50's glory! You can almost hear Hound Dog playing in the background.


Somehow, through the many decades, houses bought and sold, the packing and moving and storing of stuff, the poodle skirt stayed with me. Literally. So when Lu was trying to decide what to be for Halloween this (her fourth grade) year, I dug in the attic and emerged with a well-preserved skirt lovingly designed by a grandmother she never knew. 


Of course, I had to add my own creative touch – zombie makeup, a nod to the 50's themed Thriller video of my generation. Nostalgia wrapped in nostalgia. Lu loves the gory details and is blissfully oblivious to the full emotional circle her outfit completes.

Your question for the week. What was your most memorable costume?


Happy Halloween!