Back when I was about twelve I made an eyeball costume. I made a papier mache bloodshot eyeball mask that wend over my head and wore a long, shapeless red robe with blue veins stitched into it.
This year, I’m handing out candy with a Phantom of the Opera theme. I carved the Phantom’s mask into one of the pumpkins with a shading effect and I will be wearing a feathered white masquerade mask and black cape, while playing Andrew Lloyd Webber’s soundtrack.
Rachel and I went as the Great Depression and the Even-Better Depression (i.e. the most recent recession). She dressed up as a Okie with a rat she claimed was her kid. I walked around in a suit jacket, shirt, tie, and no pants with a sign that said “Will buy debts and sell it to others, who will sell it to others, who will sell it to others, for food.” I also went as Oliver Platt’s Porthos from the Disney “Three Musketeers,” in a costume made out of old bed sheets, a white t-shirt, glue, and a plastic lightsaber. It turned out okay.
The best costume I’ve ever seen is a toss-up between the group that went as Sandman characters (I was Destruction), the group that went as Fight Club characters (Rachel was Bob), or the kid in my law school class who went as the kid from Up (outfit, balloons, and everything).