When I was young, television and movies portrayed kids trick-or-treating in what I now assume was California. They scurried about in their skin-baring, colorful costumes on bone-dry streets, no coats or mittens hampering their candy-collecting endeavors.
This wasn't really the case for us Minnesota kids. The most elaborate of costumes were usually hidden under puffy parkas or, on a few occasions, full-fledged snowsuits. In fact, the smartest of mothers would actually incorporate winter gear into their kids' homemade costumes. I recall rain, sleet and snow on several occasions, and every once in a very great while, we would have a nice evening, requiring only a light jacket under one's costume.
Therefore, it would seem futile to put a Herculean effort into producing a spectacular, show-stopping costume. However, since sewing my daughter's costume for her dance number to an Annie song when she was three, she has expected me to break out the sewing machine for her Halloween costumes. This was a breeze the year she dressed up as an orphan and then when she convinced me to sew Dorothy's blue and white gingham dress from The Wizard of Oz. But this year, she chose her yearly Halloween costume on our annual trip to the Renaissance Festival. She informed me that I would need to sew a Renaissance princess dress. Oh boy. The upside to this plan? She'd be able to wear it to next year's Renaissance Festival if I made it a skosh larger than necessary.
Now, to be fair, I've never sewn a costume for my son. But he's far happier donning a Star Wars outfit or shimmying into a Power Rangers costume, so I focus my efforts on my daughter's costumes. My first year in college, I worked in the university's theater costume shop sewing Hawaiian shirts for their rendition of South Pacific, fairytale frocks for Into the Woods, and (thankfully now), Elizabethan gowns for Shakespeare's Richard III. I never thought I'd put those skills back into use, but here we are!
Perusing the aisles of the fabric store, we happened upon a brocade woven into a luxurious gold, pale aqua and coral pink tapestry. My daughter's eyes grew wide as she ran her hand across the fabric. It was much more opulent than I would normally be prepared to pay for, but this mom had a 50% off coupon!
It occurred to me a number of times while toiling away at my sewing machine that this costume I was lovingly crafting would be hidden under a large purple coat. But, my daughter awoke each morning and ran downstairs to inspect the progress I'd made the night before on her dress, so I assured myself it was a labor of love.
I finished the gown just in time for Halloween, despite an unplanned round of pneumonia for me – true love, to be sure, to continue basting and hemming while coughing and sneezing. But she was so proud when I finally zipped her up, and the smile on her face as she gracefully lifted her skirts and descended the stairway made it completely and totally worth it.
And, as if the fates knew of my effort, we had an unusually mild Halloween evening. My little Renaissance princess darted from house to house, collecting her candy with her Storm Trooper brother, her costume on full display.
And to think, twenty years earlier, I trudged through the record-breaking 20+ inches of snow with my younger siblings during the great Halloween Blizzard of 1991, my little sister's Snow White gown that I'd sewn stuffed into snowpants and covered with a parka.
I hope you all had a wonderful Halloween! Now on to Thanksgiving!
This wasn't really the case for us Minnesota kids. The most elaborate of costumes were usually hidden under puffy parkas or, on a few occasions, full-fledged snowsuits. In fact, the smartest of mothers would actually incorporate winter gear into their kids' homemade costumes. I recall rain, sleet and snow on several occasions, and every once in a very great while, we would have a nice evening, requiring only a light jacket under one's costume.
Therefore, it would seem futile to put a Herculean effort into producing a spectacular, show-stopping costume. However, since sewing my daughter's costume for her dance number to an Annie song when she was three, she has expected me to break out the sewing machine for her Halloween costumes. This was a breeze the year she dressed up as an orphan and then when she convinced me to sew Dorothy's blue and white gingham dress from The Wizard of Oz. But this year, she chose her yearly Halloween costume on our annual trip to the Renaissance Festival. She informed me that I would need to sew a Renaissance princess dress. Oh boy. The upside to this plan? She'd be able to wear it to next year's Renaissance Festival if I made it a skosh larger than necessary.
Now, to be fair, I've never sewn a costume for my son. But he's far happier donning a Star Wars outfit or shimmying into a Power Rangers costume, so I focus my efforts on my daughter's costumes. My first year in college, I worked in the university's theater costume shop sewing Hawaiian shirts for their rendition of South Pacific, fairytale frocks for Into the Woods, and (thankfully now), Elizabethan gowns for Shakespeare's Richard III. I never thought I'd put those skills back into use, but here we are!
Perusing the aisles of the fabric store, we happened upon a brocade woven into a luxurious gold, pale aqua and coral pink tapestry. My daughter's eyes grew wide as she ran her hand across the fabric. It was much more opulent than I would normally be prepared to pay for, but this mom had a 50% off coupon!
It occurred to me a number of times while toiling away at my sewing machine that this costume I was lovingly crafting would be hidden under a large purple coat. But, my daughter awoke each morning and ran downstairs to inspect the progress I'd made the night before on her dress, so I assured myself it was a labor of love.
I finished the gown just in time for Halloween, despite an unplanned round of pneumonia for me – true love, to be sure, to continue basting and hemming while coughing and sneezing. But she was so proud when I finally zipped her up, and the smile on her face as she gracefully lifted her skirts and descended the stairway made it completely and totally worth it.
And, as if the fates knew of my effort, we had an unusually mild Halloween evening. My little Renaissance princess darted from house to house, collecting her candy with her Storm Trooper brother, her costume on full display.
And to think, twenty years earlier, I trudged through the record-breaking 20+ inches of snow with my younger siblings during the great Halloween Blizzard of 1991, my little sister's Snow White gown that I'd sewn stuffed into snowpants and covered with a parka.
I hope you all had a wonderful Halloween! Now on to Thanksgiving!
