For a while now I’ve hated costumes and despised events that involved dressing up in them. Not sure why exactly. Hmm… let’s see, honestly, perhaps it’s because I’m so bad at pulling it off with style, and because for someone who already has issues with feeling inadequate and anti-social at times, this exercise only emphasizes these failings in myself. Then there was the “blue” incident. Anyway, few things really sounds less pleasing socially to me than to be amongst strangers in costume, each person demonstrating the cleverness and style of their awkward appearance. So, a few years ago I decided to publicly revolt against the act of dressing up in costumes in order to bring some rest to my overactive costume “issue”.

However, once deciding to be anti-costume, I think I began to enjoy the personality quirk it provided. I was the person who disliked Halloween. Disliking something strongly, especially something that most people seem to like with mild interest, was a topic of conversation… and that in itself became the draw to being anti-costume than the actual costume issue itself.

So, I’ve boycotted Halloween several years in a row… this year included. But this week a dress-up “heroes and villains” party was thrown by a friend and I decided to go to it “with zest”. I could be Captain Underpants, or… and then I stalled. I went to the costume store thinking that this place would surely be designed to inspire the costume-idea-lacking. Once again, I felt uncomfortable about the pressure, angry at costumes, annoyed at people who throw costume parties, and almost decided to walk out of there and watch Veronica Mars and drink tea that night instead. But this goal means a lot to me, so I did everything I could to rally myself—to remind myself that amongst the potential Ethical Issues with which to hold dear to one’s heart, the Costume Issue was plain silly.

So I wandered all over the store for about an hour… looking at the same aisles over and over again. The sales people, after asking to help a couple times, finally conceded to the fact that I was helpless… and might be up to something suspicious. For a bit I considered wearing an American flag and letting the guests decide if I was hero or villain. Too political. A pirate? I didn’t want to see everything in 2-D. A baby! Babies are the true villains of the world, turning happy fun people into vomit-covered home-bodies (no offense). Inspired, I did another few circuits of the store, looking for a simple accessory that would immediately label me “baby”. But party-logistics came into play. There’s something perverted about babies, and sucking on a pacifier would get in the way of drinking. Wearing a big bonnett would be extremely annoying. I gave up on baby.

Truth is, I got worn down. I didn’t want to dress up. So I took an easy way out. Being a devil is only natural, and allowed me to break out my fancy suit, and the “sly fox” button acquired the evening before. It all came together, and I didn’t have to be nice to anyone to boot.

Sure, a bit of a cop-out, and it’s not quite on theme (though I did get to incorporate a bit of baby Jesus bashing) but it’s just a warm-up for the real deal next time when I have the full gamut of costume ideas to choose from.

And the party itself was fun. But someone stole my horns.