Rachel
I may have mentioned before that Halloween is my favourite holiday. I love it all; scary movies, spooky decorations, sweeties, the silly games, and the costumes. Oh, the costumes…
When I was a kid, most costumes were homemade. This was a necessity, as there was no Amazon, no eBay, no Vinted. There were costumes shops but those were for rich kids whose parents preferred to spend money than love. I was lucky enough to have a gifted seamstress for a mum, and she was often assisted by my equally talented granny. Highlights included Princess Leia and Danger Mouse, as well as the more traditional cat, witch and fairy (okay so I was in my 20s when she made me the fairy costume, don't judge me!!) These costumes were labours of love and sometimes took weeks for them to source the components, sew and glue them together, and perfect the details.
Now though, everything has changed. My kids tell me what they want to be, I order whatever they asked for, and it arrives within 2-3 working days. The only real time spent is checking to see if I can get it second hand (usually I can!) This year has proven to be trickier as they are mad into Pokémon. I have sourced 6-year-old's Charizard but can't find a Blastoise costume that will fit a 4-year-old. It makes me sad that rather than try to make one for him like my mum would have done, I have instead convinced him to downgrade to Squirtle. While this is partly due to my pathological laziness, it is also because I just won't be able to produce anything to the same standard as his sister's Charizard costume (second hand, less than a tenner posted).
These days, Halloween costumes feel more like a transaction - click, pay, wait for delivery. Don't get me wrong, I love the convenience of being able to grab nearly any costume without leaving the sofa, but there's something magical about those homemade costumes that can't be bought online. They were one-of-a-kind, not the cookie-cutter, mass-produced outfits that flood the market today. And while I appreciate not having to wield a glue gun and a needle at 11 p.m. the night before Halloween, I wish that my kids could experience the effort and heart that my mum put into each costume.
I think that's why I've been feeling guilty about the whole Squirtle situation. Convincing a 4-year-old to "downgrade" from Blastoise to Squirtle feels like a complete parental failure in the world of costume dreams. I can picture him describing the disappointment to a therapist when he is older. But making a Blastoise shell from scratch requires skills I simply don't have. I could try to duct tape some cardboard and paint it blue, but it would probably look like something a turtle sneezed on. And my son, bless him, would probably still love it. But I can already hear the other parents with their patronising, "Wow look at that, did you make it…yourself?" (To be clear, in my head they are asking my 4-year-old child if he made it himself).
So maybe, just maybe, it's not really about where the costumes came from. Yeah, the outfits are fun, but it's the memories we make in them that matter. I remember how it felt to prance around as Danger Mouse, thinking I was the most daring, heroic little mouse in the world. And the year I was Princess Leia? I could have taken down the Empire on my own with my cinnamon-bun hairdo and a homemade lightsabre (okay, okay - my brother's Luke Skywalker had the lightsabre but I did get a shot of it).
Even if my kids are in *shudder* off-the-rack costumes now, it's the joy they feel when they knock on a stranger's door and get handed sweeties that will stay with them. He probably won't remember that Squirtle wasn't his first choice, but he will remember how he felt racing from door to door with their Charizard sister, comparing candy hauls and jumping with fear at that house that is so decorated that it looks like straight off the set of a horror movie. Side note: I dream of being that house. One year when I can be bothered, I will have gravestones in the garden with moving skeletons crawling out of them and a motion activated witch to greet / terrify any kids that dare to open our gate. These will probably all be ordered online and may or may not be second hand. I'm only human.
While I may not be the costume-making witch my mum was, I hope that the fun, the excitement, and the spooky magic of Halloween are still very much alive. Whether my kids are wearing hand-sewn capes or second-hand Pokémon suits, Halloween is still a time where we can be whoever we want to be - even if only for one spooky, sugar-filled night.
In the end, maybe I'll take a page from my mum's book and start small. Maybe next year, I'll give making a costume a go - even if it's just adding some homemade touches to a store-bought one. Who knows, maybe I'll finally be able to pass down a bit of that costume magic to my kids. And when that fails, there's always next-day delivery.
