After Saturday afternoon's disorganized rally we attended a highly organized Halloween party. Before I go any further, let me clarify: About 10 of our friends dressed up as characters from the Wizard of Oz. For this plan I can take absolutely no credit, although I will say that when the group settled on the Wizard of Oz theme I was thrilled because it is my favorite childhood movie. I can only take credit for the costumes Matt and I showed up in Saturday night -- he was Tin Man, I was Scarecrow.
I'm a real believer in home-made costumes. I think they can be even more ridiculous than store-bought costumes, as our costumes this year demonstrated. It always takes some extra planning, but I think it paid off.
As the Scarecrow, my costume was inherently less exciting than Matt's, but I made the most of it. I attached patches (actually pieces of old rag) to one of Matt's olive green sweaters; stole straw from the watershed behind our neighborhood; bought some rope at Home Depot to attach as my belt and around my legs; purchased a pirate-like hat at a Halloween costume store; attached two creepy black birds I found on clearance at Pottery Barn to the hat; made myself a Bachelor of Knowledge diploma; and painted my nose and cheeks brown. In summary, I looked not at all attractive, which of course sets me apart from every other female on Halloween, when everyone else is trying to look her sexiest.
Matt's costume involved almost all hand-made items. We bought a large red funnel at Home Depot that I spray-painted gray; I made a heart, bowtie and ax out of cardboard; I painted Matt's entire face using silver face paint; and, oh yes, we wrapped him in tin foil. In retrospect, we could have bought him a gray sweat suit, but where's the fun in that? As I was wrapping Matt in foil initially, I had to stop every 30 seconds because I was laughing so hard I was crying. Then, as the night continued, particularly as we were walking around the streets of D.C., Matt's foil kept falling off or apart, requiring me to repair him many times. Everywhere our group walked, people would look at us, no doubt trying to figure out what we all were, and then someone would shout, "TIN MAN!" I guess it's hard to miss a man covered in foil.